The Story Of The Fourth Irregular
by Volume-Of-A-book
Summary: Sherlock Holmes had been in trouble many times before, but this time he couldn't see any way out, in fact, he couldn't see at all.- Please Review
1. Chapter 1

_**This story is dedicated to my sister, for all her tremendous support and encouragement, not to mention sassy comments.**_

**THE STORY OF THE FOURTH IRRAGULAR**

**By: Bowen Cates**

**Chapter One: You Can't Write A Mystery Without Braking Glass,**

Inspector Lestrade rubbed her head and groaned "Argh!" The first thing she saw as she opened her eyes was the concerned face of Watson Leaning over her acting as a shield for her eyes from the harsh glare of the afternoon sun.

A small crowd had gathered and was quickly departing. She sat up and looked around for Holmes. The three had been out trying to track down a replacement for the shattered bay window glass which had been the result of there last adventure (that is a hands up to TT's 'The Singular Affair Of The Second Moriarty'). He was nowhere to be seen. Her head was pounding. The last thing she wanted to do was engage in a search for a Victorian detective with an over active ego and even more active feet. She hated it when he ran off like that.

"Are you quite alright?" Watson seemed to notice the annoyed expression on her face because he continued, "Holmes has gone off after the man who attacked you" the compudroid's words jolted the inspector out of her scowling reverie. "Well" she said taking the hand Watson offered her and hoisting herself up from the wet pavement and dusting off her now mud stained uniform. "I guess we might as well go find him"

She sighed, "hey, wait a minute why the zed didn't you go with him?" Wherever Sherlock Holmes went, Watson was never far behind. "He told me to stay with you as he felt that he should attempt to reprehend the criminal before he had sufficient chance to escape".

Lestrade sighed, and in a voice layered with sarcasm replied, "of course, which way did he go?" you didn't have to have a built in sound monitor to hear the annoyance in her voice".

"That way", said Watson pointing to a very musty looking ally just behind what looked to Lestrade like garbage cans. She began to walk toward the indicated area with the compudroid following close behind.

"He's been gone about half an hour". Suddenly Lestrade stopped with a startled look on her face, Watson could see why. And at the sight worry began to course through him.

The ally was a dead end and aside from a very sinister looking bloodstain, there was nothing there, not even a door. "Are you sure you didn't see Holmes come out?" Worry now replacing the sarcasm in her words. Watson nodded, "I was watching the whole time, and I saw no one".

Lestrade pulled out her wrist com "have Chief Grayson meet me down at the corner of Queen Anne Street ASAP, we have a disappearance to report"

Then she looked up at Watson, both there faces said the same thing "I hope Holmes is alright"

Lestrade seeing the mirror of her own emotion reflected on Watson's face plastered a reassuring smile on to hers "don't worry we'll find him in no time" but even that kind reassurance could not change the helpless and worried expression on her companions honest face.

**Chapter Two: Through The Darkness**

Sherlock Holmes awoke with a groan, "what happened?" he must have said it aloud because the echo was reverberating around what he came to realize must be some sort of room.

As he attempted to sit up, he tried to recall the events leading up to the present moment

The last thing he remembered was following Lestrade's attacker into a dead end some where on Queen Anne Street, he had had the man cornered, but then everything had gone black,

And had stayed that way,

For apart from the stars that seemed to be filling the better part of his vision he could not see anything but complete darkness. "If you could call that seeing," he thought bitterly to himself, he must be in either an underground room or a prison of some sort, though it was unusual for criminals not to allow their victims even a little light.

A sudden thought accrued to him,

No.

Not even Moriarty was not that careful or rather that controlling, at that moment he heard the unmistakable sound of a door sliding open somewhere on his right side and a gruff voice was heard to say "and stay there!" Just as something which Holmes thought must be heavy but soft from the telltale thud it made as it hit the floor, was hurled into the room, then the door closed again and heavy boots were heard clomping back down the way they had come.

This was all that he could tell from the sounds, it was at that moment he realized that as he had felt light on his face, (it had been a gentle warmth) when that sound had announced the opening of a door.

And a guard surely would not stand watch any where as dark as this room (it would defeat the object of being "on watch" if you couldn't see), or turn the light off every time the door to this presumed prison was opened, there must be a light on, and if there was a light on and he still couldn't see even the dimmest trace or out line…

Well terrifying as it was there was but one conclusion the logical thinker could come to. He was blind; it took a moment for the thought to sink in, "BLIND"

He said it again to himself out loud, and realized it had to be a result of the pounding he felt in his head, he reached his hand up and feeling around under his hair felt the warm stickiness of blood

Then with a start he remembered the guards words "and stay there" he could not have been addressing Holmes, there for that thud he had heard must have been the sound of some one else being thrown into the room,

His train of thought was interrupted by a slight movement somewhere behind the veil of darkness, a sort of shuffling, he may be blind but he was by no means deaf,

"Who, is there?" another noise but no reply "may I ask who I am addressing?" another noise, closer now, he realized that whoever it was that was in the room with him was crawling towards him (not walking, he would have heard the foot steps and been able to tell what age, gender and probably weight they were).

He felt a small hand grasp his own.

He decided not to pull back, his hand was taken gently and placed on what seemed to be the face of his companion, with surprise he realized that he was in the company of a girl, a very young girl, (or he guessed from the length of the hair and the size and distinctness of the features)

With what must be a fairly good looking face and large eyes, he again stated his question "who is it that I have the pleasure of addressing" it was more of a demand then a question.

He felt his hand being very gently twisted around as the girl began to tickle his palm,

He tried to take his hand back, however, whoever this was, they were holding his wrist very tightly, and due to the determinate nature of her grasp and as he had no way of knowing if there was anywhere to retreat to other then the rather solid feeling wall against his back he did not resist further.

It was then that he realized that she must be attempting to trace letters into his up turned hand, once he grasped this he devoted his whole attention to trying to 'read' the shapes. "WUORW" was all he could glean from the quickly changing symbols, which of course made absolutely no sense what so ever.

When he didn't respond the letters were again "written" on his palm slower this time with a quick tap after every few letters, which seemed to indicate the end of a word. On his second try, he managed to comprehend the entire message now that they were being traced at a slower speed

"WHO R U"

"I am Sherlock Holmes"

He stated back, by this time he was wondering if she was perhaps deaf, why else would she not speak back to him, why write in his palm?

What a pretty pair they must make, blind and deaf. It was all he could do to suppress a dark humored snort. But now to his surprise another message was being printed very slowly into his hand "DID NOT U DIE 200 YEARS AGO" so she could hear. Perhaps she was mute then? There had to be a reason for her silence.

After all he had demonstrated to her that he could talk and there for could hear, as well as react to any sound she ventured to make, "that, I am afraid is rather a long story" again he felt the now familiar tickle on his palm "WE HAVE LOTS OF TIME" then a small pause in between "TRUST ME".

Well, she was right there was definitely no rush, as he did not know who was holding him, and most likely this girl, hostage.

"Are you a prisoner here as well?" again, he felt the tracing of letters into his palm

"YES"

"Do you know who is holding us here?"

"NO" another pause then,

"R U GOING TO TELL ME OR NOT"

"I assume you are asking me to relate to you the story of how I came to be alive in this century when I am supposed to have been dead for the past 200 years?"

More tickling, "YES"

He noticed throughout her unique form of sign language that she tended to use abbreviations like "R U" in stead of writing "ARE YOU", and "DID NOT" instead of "DIDN'T" he had to admit that he was grateful for it as this new form of communication was very difficult for him to understand.

"Very well, as we seem to have no definite amount of time to wait or any other way in which to amuse our selves-

His remark was cut short by an outburst of giggles, he was now sure that his companion was a young female, however if she could giggle then she could talk, there was a definite aura of mystery about his new acquaintance. Especially since Holmes had so vague an idea of how she must look.

He had to admit that any amount of time without his eyes, and therefore observational power was proving much more difficult then he could ever have anticipated.

The girl seemed to resume her silence after that however, so he decided not to press that particular question and instead inquired, "what, may I ask is so amusing?" he felt his hand which had been let go, be caught up again

"U TALK FUNNY"

"That my dear, is a matter of opinion"

More giggling, Holmes felt that this would be a good time to make yet another query, as she seemed distracted, so he said,

"What is your name?"

"ROWLAND"

That startled him, it would seem that he had been wrong, and yet he had been sure that his companion had been female,

Yes, with out the eyes part of the eyes and brains system he was going to have to make some adjustments to his methods of deduction, a thought that frightened him beyond description,

For all his coldness and unemotional ways, his worst fear had now been realized, for how long he did not know, and that was what scared him the most,

Rowland must have seen the confusion on his face for she took up his hand again

"I GO BY MY SUR NAME ONLY" and after another small pause

"I AM A GIRL"

"Ah I suspected as much"

"YES I COULD SEE THAT"

Holmes gave a small chuckle, even through his fear at being blind he could not help but laugh at her witty underhanded remarks, he decided to give in "do you wish to here about my, shall we say 'rejuvenation' or not?"

"YES" was traced into his hand and so he began the tale. He planed to ask her for more information (if she had any) about there captors, on the other hand he thought it would be better to gain her trust first.

Then perhaps she would be more forth coming, after all he smiled to himself, it would be help to know her first name, perhaps he had at last found someone as secretive as himself

Well, he shrugged, _perhaps_.

**Chapter Three: Sending In The Clowns**

"Well Lestrade?"

Inspector Lestrade nodded in a sober fashion as she rose from looking over the now taped off wall of the blood stained ally that was swarming with new Scotland yard personnel. And indicated the blood stain on the slimy brick wall, "its Holmes's sir" Chief inspector Grayson nodded back

"Any other traces?"

"No sir, there are no other DNA traces, Watson and I did a very careful sweep of the area, the only way they could have taken him was by hover car, there are no doors hidden or other wise and there are no ways be could have doubled back without being seen by me or Watson,"

A constable approached the pair and handed a computer pad to the rather rotund Grayson.

"Sir there is an agent from British intelligence to see you" even through her despair and worry which she had been trying like crazy not to show for the last intensely hot and glary half an hour Lestrade gaped. "You called in British intelligence!" This was _her_ investigation, she owed it to Holmes, and to Watson to make sure that it turned out all right.

Grayson glared at her with pure venom,

"I did not 'invite' him Lestrade, he was ordered to come by my superiors"

"Of course sir, but sir, I thought you didn't answer to over age bunglers?"

Grayson's face began to take on a fascinating shade of purple. The constable chose this precise moment to flee the scene; no doubt, he had had past experience of Grayson's wrath.

"That _is_ how you put it isn't it sir?"

Perhaps she shouldn't have been so impudent but she was feeling particularly angry right now.

Grayson seemed unable to speak due to the fact that his face had swollen to twice it's size from the effort of keeping from pounding in the head of one of his inspectors (namely the one standing in front of him with a smug expression on her face). All he seemed able to manage was "best behavior Lestrade"

"OY bring that scanner back here!"

Lestrade and the now slightly less purple Grayson turned at the sound to see a middle-aged clean-shaven oily black haired man who made Grayson look like something from a miracle weight loss add, coming toward them, With a rather troubled looking Watson close on his heels glinting in the sun as he walked,

"Hello inspector Stayword, I trust your journey wasn't too bad?"

"No worse then could be expected, where the zed is that ruddy scanner!"

"Inspector John Stayword this is inspector Elizabeth Lestrade, who will be working with you on the case"

"Yes, well one can always learn from ones betters, I mean you guys could take a leaf or two out of our book"

Lestrade's face turned noticeably redder. Not with embarrassment you understand but with pure unadulterated hate. Watson, who must have read the signals and realized that if he didn't do something quickly an explosion was imminent, stepped up next to Lestrade.

"Perhaps you two had better go over the order of events up to Holmes's disappearance".

Watson was eager to find his friend as well as prevent a clash with the two inspectors equal to that of a nuclear war.

The gross inspector Stayword seemed to interpret this as his cue to take control of the situation.

"Well come on then, we might as well go look over the evidence"

Lestrade looked something like a smoke bomb at that particular moment.

"What evidence! Some guy bowled me over, I was knocked out, Holmes ran into a dead end and disappeared completely except for a blood stain covering half the bottom part of the ally he went into!"

She seemed to be getting angrier by the second

"What evidence is there to go over!"

Inspector Stayword was looking right at her with a Dangerous glimmer in those beady little eyes.

"So, you were knocked out were you?"

"Ya, I just told you that, quick study aren't you?"

"So you mean to tell me that you had a chance to arrest a dangerous criminal and you just let him go? You didn't attempt to stop him in any way?"

"Hey wait a minute you zedder, I can't stop the guy if I'm unconscious at the time!"

"Well it seems to me that in such a case your first reflex should have been to stop him! That way you would have got him instead of being knocked out!"

Inspector Lestrade looked about ready to explode, Stayword continued

"Why didn't the compudroid go after him? I thought those machines were invented to help you make arrests, or are they as incompetent as there assigned charges seem to be?"

Lestrade wrought her full wrath

"ONE: HE IS NOT 'THE COMPUDRID' HIS NAME IS WATSON! AND TWO: HE DIDN'T GO AFTER THE GUY BECAUSE HOLMES HAD ALREADY DONE THAT!"

Grayson was beginning to look desperate, although his facial expression did not even come close to Watson's, in fact the usually pleasant mannered compudroid found him self wanting to cheer Lestrade on.

Stayword yelled back

"IT SEEMS TO ME THAT HAD MR. HOLMES BEEN AT ALL THE MAN HE IS REPUTED TO BE, HE WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO STOP A SIMPLE PETTY THIEF!"

"HOW DARE YOU! IF IT _HAD_ BEEN, A PETTY THEIF HOLMES WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO STOP HIM! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT HIM WHEN HE COULD BE DEAD, OR WORSE!" Lestrade screamed back.

"WHY YOU LITTLE-

The argument was cut off by a shout from the roped off area, "hey inspector Lestrade! We found another trace!"

She was over there in a split second, Watson right beside her with a very pudgy inspector Stayword waddling after them.

"It's a man's sir, but there doesn't seem to be any matching sample on file… wait, a second, that's funny"

Lestrade looked over the constable's shoulder in desperation

"What? What is it?"

"The files there now, it's almost as if it was added just a second ago, it certainly wasn't there before"

"Who's it match?"

"It belongs to a Mr. Mathew Williams"

Lestrade's eyes blazed as she grabbed Watson's arm,

"I think we should go pay Mr. Williams a visit"

The two of them made for her police cruiser, inspector Stayword only just managing to keep up as he gasped after them.

"Hey wait for me!"

**Chapter Four: Rowland's Story**

"And so now that you know my story I should very much like to learn yours"

So said Sherlock Holmes in what he thought must be the general direction of his companion.

Silence rained in the little room (which in this case means that there was no sound from Rowland or any signing in progress), Holmes began to wonder if he had said something wrong, he was just about to enquire to that effect when he felt his hand be caught up again.

"WHY DOES IT MATTER"

"It might help us to understand what the purpose of your imprisonment is"

"WHAT IS YOURS"

"It could really be any number of reasons; I am not much liked among the criminal populace of London, or anywhere else for that matter"

"IT WOULD BORE U"

"What would make you say that? Have you another suggestion? Another way perhaps to pass the time until our captor's intentions become known?"

"I AM NOT GOOD AT TELLING STORIES"

"Nor, as far as I am aware, am I"

"COULD U TELL ME MORE ABOUT THAT BOY TENNYSON"

Holmes noticed that she had taken a very keen interest in the youngest irregular, and seemed to delight in pestering Holmes with questions about him.

"Rowland are you attempting to avoid telling me about your past?"

Silence rained once more

"Rowland, I rather think that it would be best to be honest with each other."

She began to write something, but stopped as suddenly as she had begun, Holmes sighed

"You have nothing to fear from me"

His palm began to tickle again as she began to write with renewed vigor

"I SUPPOSE THERE IS NO HARM IN TELLING YOU"

He noticed that the word "YOU' was pressed very slowly and deliberately into his hand as if to accent it, he also noticed that she used the whole word instead of an abbreviation. a small pause then she continued,

"MY FULL NAME IS SARAH LEANNE ROWLANDS"

That one sentence was full of meaning; and the consequences seemed to hit Holmes like a freight train he must have let his shock show in his expression because his hand was again taken in Rowland's smaller one

"U REMEMBER THE CASE"

"Very clearly" he affirmed, composing himself

"I THOUGHT U WOULD"

"It was before my introduction to this century"

"YES BUT IT WAS A VERY PUBLIC ORDEAL"

"Yes it was, I can understand your reasons for attempting to conceal it from me"

"I DID NOT WANT U TO FIND OUT"

"And that is why you removed the "S" from your sur name?"

"WELL YES" small pause "BUT I DO NOT LIKE HOW IT SOUNDS WITH THE S"

"Your father was never convicted"

"NO" "HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN"

"I agree with you whole heartedly, as I remember it was the fact that because of muteness and a presumed mental disability you could not give evidence, and as there was no proof that-"

"I AM NOT MUTE" this was traced with a fierce energy, which seemed to indicate indignation or anger.

"Then I am afraid that I fail to understand your silence in court four years ago or your continued silence at the present moment, surely it would be easer for you just to talk? Rather then engage in a sign language which is not only hard for me to understand but also very awkward for you to write?"

Silence

It was at times like this that he really wished he could see the expression on her face, it was hard to know what to say when you could not see the persons reaction, and he had given up squinting into the darkness long before he had finished _his_ narrative

"Why don't you tell me the story, if it does not pain you to much, then perhaps it will be easier for me to understand?"

"OK IF U WON'T TELL ANY ONE ELSE"

"I give you my word"

"IT WILL TAKE ALONG TIME TO PUT INTO THESE LETTERS"

"Well, shall we begin then?"

"OK"

He heard her take a deep breath

"I SUPPOSE I SHOULD START BY TELLING U WHY I DO NOT TALK"

"That would be appreciated"

"EVER SINCE I CAN REMEMBER" pause "I HAVE ALWAYS HAD A PROBLEM WITH WORDS" pause

"I WOULD OPEN MY MOUTH" pause "AND THEY WOULD COME OUT ALL GARBLED" pause

"MY PARENTS TRIED TO GET HELP" pause "SPEECH THEREPISTS AND STUFF LIKE THAT" pause "BUT IT NEVER GOT ANY BETTER" pause

"U SEE" pause "I WAS AN EMBARRESSMENT TO MY PARENTS" pause "THEY COULD NEVER SEE PAST MY DISSABILITY".

Throughout this compelling narrative Holmes had to say each letter out loud to keep track of them all, it was very hard to understand, especially the longer words, Rowland continued:

"I WAS ABOUT SEVEN" pause "WHEN MY DAD STARTED TO DRINK" pause "IT STARTED AS JUST A LITTLE BIT" pause "AT A TIME" pause

"BUT LITTLE BY LITTLE" pause "HE DRANK MORE AND MORE" pause "UNTILL IT WAS DANGOURUS FOR ME TO BE AROUND HIM" pause "FOR VERY LONG"

Here she broke off and Holmes heard her take another deep breath

"IT WAS ON THE DAY" pause "WHEN MY LATEST RESULTS FOR SPEECH IMPROVEMENT CAME THROUGH" pause

"I DID NOT TRY SPEAKING AROUND THE HOUSE" pause "SO MY DAD HAD NO IDEA WHAT MY PROGRESS WAS" pause

"I WAS IN THE GARDEN SIGNING LIKE THIS" pause "ONLY IN A WAY U HAD TO LOOK AT" pause "TO UNDERSTAND" pause "TO MY FRIEND THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD" pause "WHO LIKED ME AS I WAS" pause

"HIS NAME WAS PETER COLEHURST" pause "AND HE WAS THE HEAD GARDENER"

Here Holmes cut in, "yes I remember in the report it said that your father had been very wealthy, had made a fortune in investments if I remember correctly"

"YES"

"Do go on"

"I WAS TELLING HIM ABOUT A STORY I HAD READ" pause "ABOUT A TIME MACHINE" pause "HE WAS LISTENING" pause "AS IT WERE" pause "VERY INTENTLEY AND ASKING ME QUESTIONS" pause

"HE HAD TWO KIDS BUT I HAD NEVER MET THEM" pause "THEY KEPT THERE DISTANCE AND I KEPT MINE" pause

"ANY WAY" pause "I HAD LEFT THE HOUSE BECAUSE MY DAD WAS DRUNK AGAIN" pause "AND MY MOM WAS TRYING TO KEEP" pause "THE SEVENTS FROM FINDING OUT" pause

"SO TO KEEP OUT OF THE LINE OF FIRE" pause "BECAUSE MY MOM SHARED MY DADS OPINION OF ME" pause "I HAD GONE OUT SIDE TO TALK TO PETER" pause

"ANY WAY" pause "JUST AS I WAS GETTING TO THE PART" pause "WHERE THEY GO BACK IN TIME" pause "DAD CAME BLUNDERING OUT OF THE HOUSE" pause "DEMANDING THAT I TALK PROPERLEY TO HIM" pause

"I WAS SCARED SO I TREID BUT IT CAME OUT ALL GRABLED" pause "AND I WAS STUTTERING WORSE THEN EVER"

Holmes could now hear a snuffling sound and realized that Rowland was crying. He was just wondering if he shouldn't ask her to stop. However, she seemed determined to finish what she had started.

"WHILE I WAS TALKING TO PETER" pause "HE HAD BEEN RAKING UP SOME LEAVES" pause "WITH AN EIGHT PRONGED GARDEN RAKE" pause "IN HIS ANGER MY FATHER" pause "GRABBED THIS AND SEIZING ME BY THE SHOLDER" pause

Holmes knew what had happened next before she had even begun tracing it into his upturned hand.

"HE RIPPED IT DOWN MY BACK" pause "IT WENT THROUGH THE CLOTH" pause "OF MT SHIRT AND MISSED MY SPINE BY CENTEMETERS" pause

Another deep shaky breath

"PETER PULLED HIM OFF ME" pause "AND I RAN INTO THE HOUSE" pause "I DID NOT REALISE HOW BADLEY I WAS BLEADING" pause

"PETER MUST HAVE CALLED THE COPS" pause "BECAUSE THEY WERE THERE WITHIN MINUTES" pause

"MY MOM TOOK ME INTO THE BATHROOM" pause "AND WRAPED MY BACK UP IN THICK GUAZE" pause "SO THAT THE BLOOD WOULD NOT SHOW THROUGH" pause

"AND MADE ME PUT A NEW SHIRT ON" pause "SHE THEN TOOK ME DOWN STAIRS TO MEET" pause "THE POLICE" pause "THEY COULD NOT INVESTIGATE FURTHER" pause "AT THAT TIME" pause "AND I COULD NOT SPEAK TO THEM" pause

"ALL THE SAME THERE WAS AN INVESTIGATION" pause "AND A TRIAL" pause "I CAN ONLY GUESS THAT MY FATHER BRIBED" pause "THE JUDGE OR JURY" pause "OR BOTH" pause

"I WAS WARNED NOT TO SAY ANYTHING AT THE TRIAL" pause "IT WAS EASY ENUGH AS EVERONE BUT PETER" pause "THOUGHT I WAS DEAF OR MUTE OR MENTALY DERANGED" pause "MY DAD THREATENED ME" pause

"HE TOLD ME THAT HE WOULD FIRE PETER" pause "I COULD NOT ALLOW THAT TO HAPPEN" pause "U KNOW THE REST" pause

"I RAN AWAY AND HAVE SINCE" pause "BEEN LIVING ON THE STREETS" pause "PETER WAS THREATENED AS WELL AND COULD DO NOTHING" pause "HE WAS POOR AND HAD A FAMILY TO SUPPORT" pause "MY FATHER SAID HE WOULD MAKE" pause "IT IMPOSSIBLE FOR HIM TO GET ANY OTHER EMPLOYMENT" pause "SO HE COULD NOT RISK GETTING FIRED" pause

"AND NOW IT IS FOUR YEARS LATER" pause "AND I AM HERE WITH U IN A CELL" pause "FOR A REASON I DO NOT KNOW."

Holmes could hear her crying in the complete darkness that surrounded him, and couldn't help but think that even now in his blindness, the world seemed much darker to her then it did to him

She took another deep breath and then nothing more was heard for a long time.

**Chapter Five: A Diversion**

The house of Mr. Mathew J. Williams was a very simple box shaped design with white washed walls and an ivy plant spread out like some two dimensional tree against the north side of it,

Basically it reminded one of a country cottage like you might find somewhere nestled in the hills of Norfolk, Although if truth be told it was only a few minutes out side of New London

Inspector Lestrade knocked on the door three times and rang the door bell then she stood waiting while a very disgruntled inspector Stayword got out of the curser after a determined looking Watson,

She had made sure to have her friend sit in the front; she did not want that jerk Stayword to think he was allowed to treat Watson like a pile of zed,

Usually British intelligence wouldn't interfere with new Scotland yards affairs. On the other hand, the disappearance of a living legend was not a usual occurrence; she wanted to strangle the idiots who assigned this walking pomposity to her case,

She hit the doorbell again, much harder this time as if to take out her anger in way that would serve a purpose. Especially if it would annoy the occupant of the house, she was now attempting to enter.

A voice sounded from the other side "one minute, one minute"

An elderly man with white hair and wrinkles around his grey eyes came to the door and upon opening it looked up at the official personage standing on his doorstep with some surprise.

"May I help you?"

Lestrade was as puzzled as he was; the DNA file had shown him to be quite young and energetic looking, nothing like the withered old man that stood before her now, peering up at her through his horn-rimmed glasses.

"Are you, are you Mr. Mathew Williams?" she stammered

"Yes, and you are?"

"Mathew _**Joseph**_ Williams?" she persisted

"Yes, how may I help you?"

"Inspector Lestrade new Scotland yard, I'm afraid I have to ask you a few questions sir".

"What about?" the expression on his face was one of complete bafflement.

"We have received information that you may have been concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Sherlock Holmes"

"Who did you say disappeared Young lady?"

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes disappeared at 1:30 pm this afternoon and we found a DNA trace at the site of the disappearance matching that of yours sir."

"I don't know anything about a Mr. Sherlock Holmes, except of course the one I have read about in the old books, but I can assure you that I have been at home all day, my house keeper was here with me she can testify to that"

"Oh can she? I think I'd like to have a chat with her"

Stayword sidled up,

"Why don't you go do that inspector Lestrade, I can will continue to talk with Mr. Williams here-

He was cut off by a sudden and very uncharacteristic outburst of anger from Watson.

"I think inspector Stayword that you had better keep out of this, you are here to assist not to take over inspector Lestrade's investigation for your own selfish purposes!

Further more as you seem to be completely unconcerned about Holmes as well as incompetent, I suggest you pack your bags and return to British intelligence headquarters with the news that you have failed utterly and I doubt weather they will be very much surprised!"

Lestrade had never seen this side of her friend before, nor evidently had anyone else; Stayword was looking rather flustered as he stared disbelievingly up at the Watson and Mr. Williams seemed rather uncomfortable to have a compudroid and two Scotland Yard inspectors engaged in a heated argument on his front door step.

Lestrade realized how hard it was for Watson, and indeed for her, to go through the day wondering if Holmes was alive or not, if he was injured or worse,

And she was beginning to see that it was taking its toll on Watson, she made a promise to her self, she would find Holmes, she would find him if it was the last thing she did, she owed him that much.

Taking a deep breath she turned again to face Williams, "sir I would like to talk with your house keeper if I may", it was not a question.

Mr. William's house keeper a Mrs. Poltercot was taller then her employer with a huge amount of grizzled red hair shot with grey which she kept in a tight bun in the very centre of the top of her head,

She looked about fifty or so where as Williams was probably about seventy, she stood peering at them through a pair of green eyes that were filled with dislike, inspector Stayword had been compelled to stay in the cruiser to recover from the shock to his ego after Watson's out burst.

"No I do not know anything about a disappearance, and I fail to understand how a man that has been dead for 200 years could have gone missing just today," Mrs. Poltercot said in a thick British accent.

Lestrade could see that she was not getting through, and as a result was approaching boiling point.

"So Mr. Williams was at home all day?"

"Yes, I was cleaning his kitchen and so was there all day with him, he never left the house"

"Has he been acting suspicious in any way, said anything which may have sounded strange?"

"I have told you again and again, he has been his normal self all day"

"Thank you mam, I will not take up anymore of your valuable time"

Her last comment was thick with sarcasm

Upon her return to her cruiser and a grumbling Stayword, it took all her self restraint to keep from ramming her head into the steering controls,

Watson seemed to pick upon her agitation

"Don't worry inspector we will find him, I am sure he's alright, you know Holmes, he can take care of him self"

"Ya, thanks Watson, I just hope we find him soon, even Holmes can't look out for himself all the time"

"I am sure he is alright"

It was a statement ringing with all the conviction in the world; you could tell that he needed to believe his friend was alive and well,

"Well then I am too" she smiled at him,

"Okay so Williams didn't help us much, she continued, let's see what else we can dig up"

She was now sure that the file had been slipped in as a diversion, a way of throwing them off, and she was going to go find who was really behind it all

Grayson was not happy when the three arrived back at new Scotland Yard, so she gave him as little information as possible and went strait for the door to her office; she had some reading to do

**Chapter Six: A Closing Net**

Professor James Moriarty glowered at the screen, Fenwick had made yet another blunder, not only had he not managed to put the file in the new Scotland yard computer data bank without notice,

But he had attached it to the wrong DNA trace and now that no good inspector and her half wit compudroid were on his trail along with some fat agent from British intelligence,

It had taken him weeks to plan the capture of his most hated rival and he was not going to let new Scotland Yard screw it up,

Now that inspector was leaning over some papers, he couldn't see what they were they were to close to the camera he had had Fenwick implant in her desk lamp to be seen clearly.

He flicked a switch and waited while the camera feed changed to a view of the debilitated storeroom he was using as a prison to hold his two guests, Holmes was getting very friendly with that Rowlands girl. They seemed to be talking, via some sort of sign language. He noticed that she could read lips very well even for a deaf girl

He allowed himself a small chuckle; he had to admit that he was enjoying watching Holmes struggle. He took a certain delight in depriving Holmes of his most treasured possession; after all, what was the eyes and brains detective without his eyes?

Fenwick had been right, he had to hand it to his crony, a simple knock on the head could do wonders, and was easily repaired using the right technique, Holmes was in his power, and he was going to use that power to its full advantage

It had taken him months to track the girl down, now his plan was almost in its last stage and soon it would be complete, and he would free the criminal world of the only man who could stop him, the only obstacle that stood in his way on the road to power!

He clenched his fist, not only would he have unlimited funding for his criminal organization, but he would be rid of Sherlock Holmes and the world would never again question who was the greater intellect!

A chime sounded, and Fenwick crept around the doorframe "bojor master, I have ze shipment in the loading dock, eet eez ready to be added to the machine"

Moriarty glared at his crony,

"Well Fenwick is it possible that you could have done something right?"

Fenwick coward under his masters heated glare

"I am sorry about ze file master, eet weell not 'appen again"

"It had better not, or perhaps I shall have you join the girl and my greatest enemy in their cell?"

"No master zat weell not be necessary"

"Good, did you get everything I told you to?"

"Qui master, every thing"

Moriarty glanced back at the computer screen, which was now showing the girl, leaning over Holmes's hand, absorbed in a complicated sequence of signing.

"Fenwick, what do you think about this girl, she seems to have formed quite an attachment to Holmes"

"Qui master, zay make quite a pair, blind and deaf, eet ees ironic"

"Yes it most certainly is"

Moriarty chuckled, and then turning on the unsuspecting Fenwick yelled

"Now, go and put that equipment together!"

"Qui master, I am going"

Moriarty chuckled as his henchman slunk away in fear from the room, "yes"; he thought to him self "it most certainly was ironic"

**Chapter Seven: The Man Behind The Mask (I like the phantom of the opera, so sue me)**

Rowland looked over at the shivering man across from her, it was strange, she had read about him but she had never really thought about the man behind the mask,

all the same here he was sitting across from her, bleeding badly from a cut on his head and looking in the direction he seemed to think she was in, he looked so lost, she could understand how hard it was for him to be blind,

Drowning in darkness, and no way out,

Not that there was much to see in here, just four walls, a roof and a floor all made of the same cold grey metal, the same VERY cold grey metal,

Holmes began to fumble around with both hands, moving them up the wall and around the floor, but never moving his body from where he was sitting, she knew why, he needed some centre, somewhere to hold on, so that he wouldn't be lost for ever in the dark with no way to get back.

After she had told him about her past she had crawled away to her own corner of the room to calm down and think, she didn't know why she had told him, she just felt she could trust him no matter what.

Now she crawled over to him again, she liked to be level with her companion at all times, even if he couldn't see her, brushing a lock of her black hair away from her face she took up his hand again,

He gave a jolt of surprise at the unexpected touch, he was always listening so carefully to her every move, and yet he seemed never to get used to the surprise of having an unseen hand touch his own without warning.

She felt a strange protectiveness toward him, kind of how she guessed she would feel toward an older brother, however never having had one she could only guess. She would never follow his orders, or do what he said, as a daughter might do for a father, no she looked on him as a friend or a brother, but never a father, especially after her experience of fathers, she did not want to spoil anything,

She felt safe around him, like when she used to feel when she was around Peter, a feeling she hadn't had for a long time, Holmes didn't ask her to talk, he just let her be who she wanted to be, and do what she wanted to do, he also seemed to enjoy her company.

She looked at his face, at his empty grey eyes that seemed to search the room but never focused on anything,

She compared them to her own, she had black eyes with a grey ring around the out side, he had sandy blonde hair, she had jet black hair that curled into ringlets when newly washed, he was tall and she was sure had never seen anyone as thin as he was, she was middle sized and well built,

She wore simple modern clothes that were much the worse for wear and he wore what must have been the style of his youth, back in the days of spats and high collard shirts, he had no coat or deerstalker, but she surmised that those had been taken away by the guard, as her coat had been.

Kneeling on the floor beside him, she began to sign into his hand again, her fingers clumsy with the cold.

She didn't mind taking the extra time to trace the letters into his palm, she liked being on the same terms with him. Not that she was happy he was blind, but she liked the feeling of being equal to him, one of the reasons she was so intrigued by his description of the youngest of the group he called his irregulars,

This Tennyson sounded a lot like her.

Holmes also talked about a New Scotland Yard inspector by the name of Lestrade who he described as being tall and having brown hair with a light streak down the side.

If Rowland didn't know better from having read the stories she would have thought Holmes was sweet on this woman, she also liked it when he talked about his robot friend, she hoped she would live to meet all Holmes's friends, as she had none of her own besides the man who's hand she was now holding.

"Are you alright Rowland?" he said in his cultured British accent.

She liked how he talked, there was a nobleness about his voice that told you beyond doubt that he was a gentleman, She began to sign back to him.

"YES" "I AM FEELING BETTER NOW"

"I thought you might have decided to discontinue our acquaintance"

"DO U WANT ME TO"

"I should say not" he said it with a slight chuckle, "I wonder how long-

His remark was cut short by a clomping sound, coming from the other side of the wall of their cell.

they had been in this room together for at least a day or night now, Rowland had lost count of how long she had been held captive, for besides that one time she was taken by the guard form her other cell she had not seen another human face for what she thought must be days,

Nor had either of them been given food since being put together.

Holmes gripped her hand tightly to get her attention.

"A man, about 150 pounds, probably was a construction worker, tough nail bottom boots, about 45 years of age"

She shook her head; she had given up trying to find out how he learned stuff like that.

She laid his hand flat.

"THE SAME ONE AS BEFORE I THINK"

"I must agree with you there"

The door slid open and the half light of their prison was made brighter from the additional light of the hallway outside.

She squeezed Holmes's hand back.

The guard advanced toward them and grabbing her he threw her across the room away from Holmes, she had had to let go of his hand, and with that brake in their communication went Holmes's connection to the outside world.

She watched in horror as her friend was grabbed by his upper arm and dragged unceremoniously to his feet, when he tried to turn around in order to walk forward the guard interpreted this as an attempt at escape and promptly kneed him in the stomach.

Rowland screamed and tried to bite the guards arm, resulting in her being thrown again, this time against the wall head first.

The last thing she heard before she blacked out was the guard talking to Holmes, "nice little friend you got there, a deaf kid"

Then the darkness she had been trying for so long to save her friend from, swallowed her.

**Chapter Eight: Following the Trail**

Lestrade growled and threw down yet another file, nearly knocking over the black desk lamp that was perched on the corner of her desk**. **She had been studying file after file for a day now, with only a small period in between for rest so she had been reading the zedding things for about 15 hours and nothing was turning up,

She had hoped to find some consistency, some small nuance from another criminal act, which might give her a clue as to the identity of Holmes kidnapper-,

Catching herself, she realized that throughout this case she had been making a conscious effort not to say 'Holmes's murderer' and she realized that the word 'kidnapper' was the only thing keeping her going, the small chance that her friend might still be alive,

A loud growl of protest from her stomach brought her back down to earth, and yet another realization hit her, she had not had anything to eat or drink since her last trip to the coffee machine almost 3 hours ago.

She got slowly to her feet and flexed her muscles; it felt good to stretch after being behind that desk for so long.

She then made her way down stairs to the ground floor, and got yet a another cup of coffee out of the machine, nothing like lukewarm cement to keep you going.

Chewing, er sipping, her coffee she turned around to see Watson sitting in the corner of the room by himself looking more worried then ever, inspector Stayword had been keeping his distance from the pair lately.

And so was nowhere to be seen at this particular moment, however a chorus of grumbling from the opposite side of the room announced that there pudgy partner was not very far away.

Lestrade walked up to Watson and put a hand on her friend's metallic shoulder, "hey, you okay?"

Watson nodded and attempted to put a confident smile on his face, he failed miserably and the over all affect was that he looked like he had smelled something very distasteful.

Realizing that he was grimacing he abandoned the attempt at looking bright and cheery and surrendered to complete depression.

"Were you able to ascertain anything from those reports?" Watson asked Lestrade, she could hear the desperation in his voice.

"No, there's no criminal at large or otherwise who seems like they could fit into this, it's a new case"

She sighed and sipped at her coffee again, "I was just notified of an unexplained theft, a mechanics supplier,

I thought I might go and investigate, I think there's a chance it might have something to do with Holmes, we can't afford to leave anything out at this point"

Watson jumped at the chance, "shall we be off then?"

Lestrade had to hand it to him, for all his annoying attributes, he sure had a lot of faith in his friend.

"But what makes you think that it may have something to do with Holmes inspector?"

"Well, the parts that were stolen could not be used for anything other then a high voltage power generator, and there are only a few places in New London that need that kind of electricity on an ongoing basis,"

"Such as?"

"Well, mostly old ware houses that were built before the boycott against high pollutants, so I thought we could start looking around the out skirts of new London, in places where you'd need a lot of power to keep the place going"

"But what does that have to do with Holmes?"

"Well if I was going to abduct someone that's where I'd set up head quarters, it's not the kind of place that's easy to keep running but it's great if you want to stay out of the way of the authorities, and there's no rent."

"I think that's a brilliant idea inspector!"

"Well at least even if it doesn't have anything to do with Holmes we'll have crossed something off our list"

"How many wear houses or similar structures are there to search?"

"Well that's the problem, it may take a while"

Watson gave her a look.

"NO! Watson forget it!"

"I really think they deserve a chance to help, they've been just as worried about Holmes as we have"

"Watson, there just kids, I know it must be hard for them but-"Watson gave her one of his 'Holmes would want them to help' looks

Lestrade gave up, and said with an exasperated sigh

"I'm never going to win this one am I?"

"Not in the foreseeable future, no"

"Okay, call them, but if they get in the way….."

"I'm sure they wont, I have complete faith in their abilities and it will make it easier for them to bear if they feel that they are helping in some way."

"Whatever, call them, if they can be here in fifteen minutes fine, otherwise they'll have to walk"

"I am sure they will be more then happy to rush over"

"Ya, that's the problem,"

She sighed, "I suppose I'll have to tell Stayword about our new line of investigation"

Watson shrugged.

"Well if you must you must," he said cheerily

Lestrade found the mischievous glitter in his eyes unnerving.

**Chapter Nine: Reinforcements**

The Baker street irregulars sat around Deirdre's kitchen table, the three had gathered there the day before for the purpose of doing their home work together,

But that had been before the disappearance of their friend and mentor Sherlock Holmes and they had all three come back to Deirdre's house again the next day so that they would be together in the event of any news.

Now Deirdre and Wiggins were staring glumly at their shoelaces, while Tennyson pretended to enter something in on his keyboard,

The usual energetically chipper beeping made by the youngest of the irregulars was now limited to a series of flat monotones, the friends had been waiting since they had gotten word at 2:05 pm the day before,

Waiting for any news that their friend had been found, that he was alright, or that Inspector Lestrade had a lead of some sort.

Wiggins lifted his prematurely bald head and looked at Tennyson through a pair of kind brown eyes.

"hey, how ya doin?' they'll find him don't worry"

"beep whirr clock clock wiz" Tennyson's big blue eyes seemed to be full of suppressed fear as they stared back at the tall black boy over the red bandana that covered the majority of his face from the bridge of his nose down

Deidre joined in the conversation, the 12 year old had scruffy brown hair and her nails were each painted a different color.

"Ya, don't worry, Watson and inspector Lestrade are probably looking for 'im right now, besides, Mr. 'Olmes can take care of himself" she said in a thick British accent

She did not sound very confident however and her words did little to lift the gloomy atmosphere.

"Beep beep whir- Tennyson's reply was cut short by a ringing coming from the direction of Deidre's bed room, "Ill get it!" she said as she leaped up from her chair, and ran towards the source of the sound.

The other two irregulars followed suit.

With the click of a button the synthetic face of Watson appeared on the screen of the vid phone

"Hello you three"

Deirdre was about to open her mouth to reply when Tennyson started letting out loud streams of beeping from his key board.

"Beep whirr clock clock whur beep clock beep beep beep!"

"Ya, tell us!" Wiggins joined in with the over exited Tennyson.

"Inspector Lestrade and I are going out follow up on what we hope is a clue"

"Can we come?" was asked simultaneously, Wiggins had simply asked where as Deirdre had said it for the sake of translation for her younger friend who was now beeping even more insistently.

All the same, the result was rather comical and earned a small smile from Watson who was looking up at them from the screen.

"That was my purpose in calling; however, you would need to be able to get to new Scotland Yard in about 15 minutes, could you manage that?"

Deirdre beamed "if we start now we can be there in ten!"

"Very well I shall see you all here in ten minutes"

So with renewed vigor the three friends grabbed coats, hover boards and goggles and after reaching the bottom of the stairs began careening down the street at full blast, their determined smiles showed the hopeful feeling in there hearts that maybe it would turn out right after all,

Besides, if anyone could find Holmes, They could.

**Chapter Ten: Dun Dun Dun Duh**

Holmes did his best to ignore the sharp pain in his chest as he was dragged down the hallway by his right arm, he could hear the heavy steps of the guard echoing along interrupted by the occasional grunt or rude remark.

Holmes tripped awkwardly along beside his conveyor, he could feel his face growing redder and redder with humiliation, this was not an ideal position to be in, it was very difficult to walk when you couldn't see where you were going, and being kneed in the ribs hadn't helped at all.

Back in the cell when the guard had turned on him, he had heard Rowland scream and then his attacker had flexed suddenly as if in a lot of pain.

Then Holmes had heard a muffled bang and felt the vibration from an impact course through the metal floor under his feet, he had listened helplessly doubled over in pain unable to do anything to help his young friend.

It was beyond frustrating! He was cut off from the world around him, he would be very worried if he had heard an ionizer go off, but as it was, Rowland was probably just dazed or unconscious.

He hoped that he was not being moved to another cell as he rather enjoyed the company of this young street Arab, and would not wish her to come to any more harm then she already had.

She had once been one of the richest children in the world, when he had said her father was 'very wealthy', Holmes had been aware that he bad been making something of an understatement,

He wondered how it must have been for her, at the age of eleven to survive such horrible ill-treatment from her parents, what kind of people would manipulate their own daughter to such an extent, and then allow her to roam the streets of New London without money or protection.

When Rowland had disappeared their had been no inquiry, it had all been hushed up, he had not even learned of her disappearance from his history vids but had had to ask Lestrade about it specially,

What a scandal it would make if the child were found and discovered to be completely capable of, and willing to tell her story the re-

He wanted to slap himself, of course, that was it! the girl's parents had been living in complete comfort for four years now, their past actions buried under the weight of their pocket books, if the girl were to be found and then to tell her story they would be arrested, publicly centered, and humiliated their lives would be ruined.

A perfect breeding ground for blackmail, their captor must be planning to use the girl as a means of funding for whatever dark purpose he had in store, limitless wealth in the very small stubborn package of the girl he had just left behind in their cell.

What a fool he had been not to see it before! 'Or rather hear it' he reminded himself darkly.

The whole time he had been thinking this over in his head the guard had been pulling him roughly by the arm down what must still be the same hallway. He could hear sharp crashing sounds as if two peaces of metal were being bashed together at high speeds, it was too high in pitch to be a hammer and nails, also he doubted very much weather tools of that kind were used in this century, or at least not nearly as often as they had been in his.

Now the guard came to a sudden halt and pulling Holmes with him made his way around a tight corner, at which time the temperature began to climb at an immense rate,

Going from freezing to pleasantly warm in a few seconds, he heard another door slide open and felt the heat of a very strong light source somewhere above his upturned face.

He was pushed violently forward and shoved into a chair at which point he felt his wrists and ankles being cuffed securely to what must be a heavy wooden chair, the kind used in the lunchrooms of late twenty first century warehouses.

Holmes knew better then to struggle when he could still hear the breathing of the guard who had brought him here, so close to his right arm,

He instead concentrated his energy on trying to figure out where he was from the sounds and textures around him, not an easy task as his hands were completely restricted to the arms of his chair

He new that in the past there had been detectives who had, because of similar difficulties to his own, used there other senses to great advantage, however that took years of practice and skill and he had not yet had time even to master the technique of walking properly without his sight,

He hoped he would not be blind long enough to learn.

Suddenly the sound of a light step broke in on his train of thought, he had heard that step before, it was forever branded upon his memory.

Moriarty

**Chapter Eleven: Where Oh Where Has Inspector Stayword Gone?**

Lestrade sighed as she pulled up to warehouse numbers 1,2 and 4 on her list. Number 3 had been torn down years ago after it was pronounced structurally unsound, she grumbled to herself, at least that was one less they had to look in

She had been forced to let Stayword sit in the front passenger seat because he had refused to cram in the back with the irregulars and after her suggesting it, had also refused to stay behind

Now she wished that she hadn't told him where they were going, even if it meant braving all Grayson's wrath,

The fat lump had spent the whole three-hour ride whining about kids being included in _**his**_ investigation he seemed to have forgotten 'the compudroid's' earlier comments.

Watson didn't seem to mind at all, she had rather hoped for another out burst from the him but that, as far as Watson's extremely pleasant attitude went, seamed out of the question, at least with in the foreseeable future.

The six piled out of the police cruiser, and turning to the irregulars Lestrade informed them of her plan of action.

"Okay, Wiggins and Tennyson will take number one Watson and I will take two and Deidre can go with inspector Stayword"

"But inspector!" Deidre protested

Lestrade was about to open her mouth to silence the twelve year old her when Watson intervened

"I would be happy to trade places with Deidre and go with inspector Stayword"

"You would?!" was said (or beeped) at the same time by every one, even self righteous Stayword joined in the dumbfounded exclamation.

"Indeed, that is unless the inspector would prefer the company of young Deidre here"

Lestrade sensing impending danger but not wanting to pass up such a good chance gave Watson a questioning look and shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay, Deidre can come with me then"

"Excellent, lets all meet back here in an hour," Watson continued cheerily

And with one more suspicious glance at Watson they all went their assigned ways,

This formation was used for the duration of the day, at the end of which the tired crusaders all piled back into the police cruiser and began to head back towards the middle of new London.

There was a general atmosphere of disappointment, worry, and in the case of Lestrade frustration, every minute they wasted looking in empty warehouses, was another minute in which Holmes could have been killed,

Perhaps they needed to try another line of investigation, they had done all they could that day and now the light was beginning to fade.

It was when they were about half way back to new Scotland yard headquarters when Lestrade realized that there was something wrong, she looked back and saw only the three irregulars sitting in the back seat, Watson was up front with her.

"Hey wait a sec, where's Stayword?"

The result of her question was in an explosion of giggles and beeping from the back seat, Watson however remained silent.

"Watson? What did you do with inspector Stayword?"

She would not have phrased the question that way, had she not seen his mock innocent expression.

"I am sure I have no Idea what you mean inspector"

Now she was sure he had done something.

"Okay, try this, do you know where inspector Stayword is?"

"I might have an idea."

"Oh, and what would that be?" she was trying to look Sirius but was not doing a very good job, the two oldest irregulars continued to giggle while Tennyson had a glint in his eyes not unlike that of Watson's.

"Well, the most logical place to look for him would I suppose, be back where we just came from, perhaps he forgot what time it was, or lost his way in one of the buildings."

Lestrade turned the cruiser around

"And which warehouse do you think he would be most likely to have got lost in?"

"Well, I might have to think about that for a moment, we did look in _so_ many."

"Take your time"

"hmmmm"

"Just out of curiosity, weren't you supposed to stay with him?"

"Oh yes, well he does tend to wonder off," said Watson, assuming a mock guilty expression

"Of course, well you'll let me know when you remember which one you last saw him in, right?"

"Of course inspector,"

"well, you have plenty of time to think, it's going to be another two hours until we can get there and I really don't want to be looking for that little zedder until 3:30 tomorrow morning."

This was one ride she was going to enjoy almost as much as she would the expression on her obese partners face.

She allowed herself a smile, however some small part of her was nudging her in the ribs, reminding her that she would enjoy Watson's revenge on British intelligence much more if Holmes were here to share in the fun.

She pushed the thought out of her mind,

She would see that he would be

**Chapter Twelve: Bumping Into A Clue**

Inspector Stayword slouched against the cold metal wall grumbling to him self, he should have known better then to trust that stupid machine!

They were all the same, useless hunks of scrap metal! One would almost think that that worthless compudroid had locked him in here on purpose! Well it didn't mater weather he had or not, it and those meddling kids had to have realized he was gone by now and were no doubt looking for him, but zed they were taking there time! He could just see the worried expressions on there faces. No doubt they were combing every inch of the searched warehouses, frantically looking for any trace of him

That stupid woman inspector didn't know how to do her own job! How had she ever become and inspector in the first place!

There was no denying that she was attractive, no, one couldn't deny such things but she had been inexcusably rood to him!

Women shouldn't even be allowed to be in the police force in his opinion, it was mans work! Women were simply too emotional under stress to think strait!

They should be the desk clerks and secretaries but certainly not field officers

He grumbled to himself again, all he had tried to do was give her some useful pointers, show her how real detective work was done, and how had she treated him!?

She had gone and invited a bunch of kids! KIDS! To take part in **his** investigation,

It wasn't his fault that this missing Victorian idiot was stupid enough to get himself abducted! No wonder he always got to new Scotland yards answers before they did! New Scotland Yard was even more incompetent then that brainless dolt!

That dead detective had picked the easy road to fame! Stayword hit the floor with his fist in frustration. He hated pompous people! Especially ones who thought themselves better then others just because they had been dead for the last two hundred years! And now here he was wasting his time trying to find the man! Or at least he would be if that retched robot hadn't triggered the locking mechanism for this blasted store room!

Stayword adjusted his fat bottom on the floor and heaved a sigh of annoyance.

He was about to start grumbling to himself again when he realized that he could feel a steady pulse through the floor beneath him,

Pressing his ear to the ground he also heard a sound, almost as if someone were hammering nails into a piece of metal but higher pitched,

Great! The whole zedding building was probably about to collapse, with him in it! He gulped. He had warned that inspector Lestrade about searching old places like this with out official help!

And now look what happened when she hadn't followed his advice!

Stayword hauled himself to his feet and began to pace the tiny room,

He was just about start pounding on the door in the hope that his partner and company had returned to get him. When he tripped over something protruding from the floor and landed on his knees, wincing in pain. It was hard to see in the almost complete darkness of the windowless room, he groped around until he found the object his foot had caught on,

A handle

The handle of a trap door.

Pulling with all his might, he wrenched the thing open, and looking around he began lower himself down the hole, they should really make such things bigger to allow for different body types! He thought indignantly, you would have to be thinner then a string bean to fit through!

Suddenly he lost his footing and fell unceremoniously through the hole and landed on the floor underneath his little prison, to his surprise it was lighter down here,

Looking up he saw that it was brightly lit on the ceiling by strip lighting, he was about to call out when he heard something, a sound like the kind made by someone in serious pain, as he listened it got closer and closer,

It was at that moment Stayword realized that calling out might not be such a good idea after all; he began frantically looking about for a hiding place, no easy feat for someone of his mass,

Turning around he saw an opening behind a rusty old electrical unit just big enough to hold him, and so hidden he looked back out into the hallway he had just left, and almost cried out in his surprise,

A tough looking middle sized man was dragging along another more ragged looking fellow by the arm,

The latter, very tall and thin with a shock of brownish blonde hair which was matted down with dried blood, he seemed to be limping and from the way he was breathing in sharp gasps, Stayword could see that he had several broken ribs,

There was something else about this miserable looking figure that arrested the inspectors attention, he wasn't looking were he was going, in fact he didn't seem to be looking anywhere, his eyes passed over the walls and the man holding him without focusing on either,

It seemed to Stayword that there were two possible reasons why, either the man was to delirious to notice them or he just couldn't see,

If the blank look in those grey eyes of his was anything to go by, it was probably the latter

Stayword stared at the two, guard and prisoner, and wondered how in the world such an ironic thing could have happened,

The great Sherlock Holmes going blind!

Oh yes, Stayword grinned, _**he **_had found the object of his investigation, the man who's disappearance had been the cause of all this embarrassment

Sherlock Holmes was pulled past Stayword's hiding place, tripping over his own feet and those of the guard,

After they had disappeared from sight, Stayword slipped out from his chosen cover. And began to follow them down the underground hall as silently as he could.

**Chapter Thirteen: Uh Oh**

Martin Fenwick ran along the hall mumbling to him self, master was not going to like this at all!

At least it wasn't as bad as it could have been, master had been in that room 'interrogating' the dead detective. And if Fenwick hadn't been passing and decided to check the upper floor surveillance cameras then they would have had no warning at all!

He had been about to sound the alarm when he had turned around and the fat man had not been visible on the computer screen anymore.

At first, he thought he had been seeing things, but had deciding to check anyway, swerving the camera to get a view of the whole room, he saw nothing but the open trapdoor to there headquarters!

Panicking Fenwick had changed views again, this time to the inside of the yardie's police cruiser, it had been a stroke of genius on his masters part to implant that camera in her steering controls,

Sure enough only the three little brats the droid and the yardie were there, all giggling about something he couldn't hear, he cursed the fact that the cameras didn't have audio, the reason being that they would have been to large to go unnoticed by the cruiser's occupants

Fenwick had been sure they had not been discovered when that yardie and her little group left, oh why had he not noticed that only five of six had departed?

Rounding another corner he stopped at a door just opposite from the one Holmes had been escorted out of, Fenwick had to suppress a grin at the thought of the condition his master's rival had been left in, but his pleasure was short lived as his fear returned full blast

After knocking a few times he heard the gruff yet cultured voice that could only belong to his master say, "Enter" Fenwick walked through the door as if he were walking towards his doom, and, as he reminded himself, he probably was

"What is it Fenwick? As you may not have noticed with your limited intelligence I am rather busy at the moment"

Moriarty had a smug smile on his face, the kind only the pure satisfaction of slowly destroying ones greatest enemy could produce,

"Deed you finish with zee detective master?"

"Yes, I may have him in for another 'session' tomorrow, he is holding up better then most would under the circumstances, although I would expect nothing less from the great Sherlock Holmes"

He said the name of his adversary in a tone full of hatred and disgust

"Master, we must sound zee alert"

The satisfied grin slid off Moriarty's face like melted wax

"And why would I want to do that Fenwick?" his tone was dangerously soft, a sign of impending doom for his lackey

"Weell master. I was looking through camera feeds when I found zat zat fat detective 'ad not left with zee yardie and 'er leetle brats"

Fenwick's expression was one of utmost fear

"And what are you suggesting?"

"Well I found heem; ee was locked in zhe store room where we 'ave our entrance"

"And?" you could tell that he already comprehended what had happened

"Weell master I looked back and ee was gone, zee trap door was opened"

"AND!" Moriarty yelled

Fenwick began to speak very quickly

"Weell master, I checked zee camera in the yardie's cruiser and ee was not there! zey were all laughing about something; I think they must have locked heem in zat room as a joke"

By this time Moriarty looked about ready to throw his personal slave against the wall, as he had had his crony's do with Holmes a few minutes before,

"Sound the alert, find him Fenwick, if you value your miserable life, find him, I shall not allow my plan to be ruined by your incompetence!"

"Qui master"

"The yardie had better not come back to get him or else….."

He didn't need to finish, Fenwick was out the door like a shot, yelling at the guards flanking every second door way to follow him

Master was angry and if Fenwick didn't find the fat detective soon it was going to be him in that room, not Holmes.

**Chapter Fourteen: Moriarty!**

Rowland hugged her knees close to her body, she was sailing on a wave of dizziness and was becoming rather sea sick, the salt tears flowing down her face only helped to complete the illusion that she was somewhere on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

As she leaned against the wall of her prison she tried with all her might to hold them back, she knew her captors must be watching her somehow, and she did not want to give whoever they were the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Reaching her hand up the back of her shirt, she felt the eight long bumpy scars, reaching from her neck down like some evil infection, a mutilation of the otherwise soft flesh of her back.

She couldn't help it, bringing her hand back she screamed into her knees muffling the sound in the hope that the camera she knew was there, forever watching her every move, wouldn't pick it up, why were they doing this to her? They had already taken everything away from her and locked her in this hellhole.

Now they had taken Holmes away! And she would probably never see him again! As if all this weren't bad enough, that ugly guard was in all likelihood beating him up at this very moment, beating up a defenseless blind man!

Why were they doing this to her friend? She knew that criminals hated him, but what was the object in locking him in here and then taking him away? Why didn't they just kill him and get it over with?

She wanted to slap herself, how could she even think of such a thing. Holmes was probably dead by now anyway, and she shouldn't be wishing more harm on him then he had already endured.

The thought was too much and she burst into the tears that she had been denying herself since she had first been imprisoned here, tears that only the thought that Holmes was near had saved her from.

She was just about to start pulling her hair out in her anger when she heard the door open. By now she had excepted the fact that she was next and that the guard was coming back to end it all, at this point she almost didn't mind, anything would be better then waiting in this metal freezer wondering if her friend was still alive, she got to her feet, ready to be led away to her death.

However, to her complete astonishment and horror the guard was dragging an almost unrecognizable Sherlock Holmes into the room, throwing his charge to the floor with a grunt the he departed.

Holmes landed with a muffled groan, his knees hitting the hard metal as he collapsed, face first, to the ground.

Rowland, who was on the other side of the room, didn't reach him in time to save him the extra pain of the impact, she ran to him (this was no time for crawling) and pulling him up against the wall managed to get him into a sitting position without hurting him to much.

She cursed those jerks for not letting her keep her coat, as it was there was nothing she could do to make her friend more comfortable.

It was at that point that she realized she was getting tears all over Holmes' shirt, not that it mattered, it was hard to tell he was even wearing one from all the blood and dirt coating it, she felt however that she should be more careful not to get him wet.

She was glad she had him sitting because at that moment he began to cough up blood and had he been lying down he would have choked.

He had another gash on his head, a black eye, another shiner starting on his chin, a cut lip and a sprained wrist, he also looked like he had some broken ribs and lord knows what other injuries.

The only thing that gave her hope was the fact that he didn't seem to have any ionizer wounds, _at least_, she thought, _they had spared him that_.

She may still be a child but she had seen her fair share of blood in her life on the streets and was not easily affected by it.

but this was different, this was beyond bloody, this was barbaric and inhumane not to mention cowardly, she shivered at the thought of Holmes being assaulted by that thug who had brought him back, with no way to defend himself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small sound, something like a muffled groan, coming from the battered detective in the corner.

"Is that you Rowland?" she could see that talking was painful for him; his words came out in short gasps between each loud and shaky breath.

In a worried frenzy she took up his left hand (the one with the working wrist) trying to sign as fast as she could without hurting him

"YES"

"Are we…are we in the same cell as before?"

"YES" she made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sob.

"What is wrong, are you hurt?" as he said this Holmes tensed up, as if he thought she might be, and was anxious for her safety, his tone was one of concern as well, she knew that tone, it was the same one Peter used to use when he would ask her how she was doing.

"NO U R" She was beginning to let her anger and worry show in her quick jerky finger movements.

Holmes seemed to calm down after that

"Yes…listen I need…I need to tell...you something"

"NOT NOW" pause "U SHOULD TRY TO GET SOME REST'

"No…I …I know who is holding us here" Rowland was genuinely startled.

"WHO"

"Mor…Moriarty" had Holmes been able to see, or indeed simply a more emotional being he would have jumped at the look of surprise and shock that lay across his companions features.

"I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD"

"That is a long…story"

"U CAN TELL ME WHEN U R FEELING BETTER"

nothing, not even the identity of her captor was more important to her then Holmes's survival right now, she was not going to loose him, not like she had lost Peter when she had been forced to say goodbye to him forever on the eave of her 'disappearance'.

She couldn't help but think that through all that she had lost through this ordeal she had at least gained one very special thing, the friendship of this extraordinary individual.

"No" he gripped her hand tightly "Now…he…knows who you are…he" Holmes took a deep and painful looking gasp before continuing.

"He is going…too…to use you to black…mail your parents"

Rowland was now more frantic then ever.

"HOW DO U KNOW"

"I surmised…and later…he…told me"

"WHEN HE BEAT U UP"

"No…well…no not as such"

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN"

He didn't answer

"HOLMES"

"He just…told…me of his plans…he had the guard that we…have become acquainted with…and several others…do the work."

Rowland became silent, Holmes was about to ask if she was alright when he heard a ripping sound.

"What…was that?" he questioned, squinting into the surrounding darkness.

"HOLD STILL"

Before he could ask what she intended to do he felt a piece of ruff cloth being pressed against his head, and almost yelled from the sudden pain.

"What…what are you doing…Rowland? What d…did you…just rip?

"MY SHIRT SLEEVE" she had decided to take out her mounting furry at her captor on her clothing, as it would serve a purpose and help Holmes.

"Why…did you do that…you can…not possi…bly be over heated" he joked, and then quickly regretted it as he became doubled over in another bloody coughing fit.

"WE NEED TO STOP THE BLEEDING"

It took Holmes a moment to reply as he was still coughing, once he got his breathing back under control he was able to respond.

"I must agree…with …you there...however" another gasp "it would be…yet another…advantage for…Moriarty…he could…separate us…and then…it would be exceedingly boring in here…indeed"

"TO HELL WITH MORIARTY" Rowland could see that her friend was rather shocked by her sudden outburst of rude language; however, she ignored his open mouthed expression, and continued to wrap his head in the ripped sleeve as best she could.

Suddenly a huge wave of pounding feet was to be heard in the hall, along with a high-pitched cry of "come weez me, zees way" in a French accent.

Rowland could tell from the look on her companions face that he recognized the voice

"WHO IS IT"

"Moriarty's henchman…Martin…Fenwick"

"I THINK SOMETHING IS WRONG"

"I would have to…agree with you"

"WHAT DO U THINK IT IS"

"I have no idea"

"MAYBE YOUR YARDIE HAS FOUND U"

"Us" he insisted ignoring the 'your'. "…and…that could…very well be …but…somehow…it seems unlikely."

"WHERE DO U THI- her question was cut short by the sound of metal against metal, someone was trying to open the door to their prison, without a key.

**Chapter Fifteen: Oh The Turning Tables**

Watson smirked as the cruiser landed, it had taken precisely 2 hours 26 minutes and 14 milliseconds for inspector Lestrade to drive her police cruiser all the way back to the out skirts of new London,

he had been mindful to wait until they had done all the searching they could that day before he had locked inspector Stayword in that little store room, he didn't want his revenge to inhibit there investigation in any way.

Watson was not spiteful by nature, but that man's complete disregard for Holmes safety or welfare had been too much for his sensibilities

He could tell that Lestrade was also having her fair share of frustration; no one could look on the sweaty pompous features of inspector john Stayword without feeling somewhat infuriated

The five of them got out of the cruiser and stretching there legs, alighted to the dusty ground just out side warehouse number forty-seven

They didn't have to start from scratch again because Watson had miraculously remembered where he had 'last seen' the inspector and they had been able to fly directly down to this wreck of a building,

It was pitch black out side now and it was as well that Watson had sensors that were not affected by light differences because otherwise they would have been in deep zed,

Watson led the way inside followed by a train of still giggling and beeping irregulars, tired as they all were, just the thought of inspector Stayword's reaction to being locked in an old building for two hours was enough to start them all snickering again

"I do believe that I saw him around here somewhere," the compudroid stated said with a look of mock anxiety on his synthetic face,

"Its okay Watson, take your time, were already late back anyway" Lestrade didn't seem that bothered about there time at all

"Ah yes, now I remember!" It was in this store closet, he must have locked himself in"

"Ya, he does tend to do that sort of thing, but I wonder how he managed it when the lock was on the out side?" inspector Lestrade wondered with a twinkle in those brown eyes of hers, as she pounded on the door

"Inspector Stayword are you in there?"

No answer

She tried again with the same result, by now even Watson was looking puzzled,

"Perhaps he has fallen asleep"

"Are you sure he's in there?"

"Yes quite sure" his countenance was no longer one of jest

"Stand back, I'm going to break down the door"

"no really inspector allow me" Watson offered taking out his spare ionizer and blasting the lock of the outer side of the store room, by now even the irregulars who had ceased to giggle (or beep) were looking concerned, not for Stayword's safety but for the reputation of there friend,

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ WHAPPPPPPPPP

With one final blast from the ionizer, the toasted door fell open, and had Stayword been inside he would no doubt have been flattened, an added bonus which would have saved him the cost of a proper fitness program but not very good for the case record.

However to the great bewilderment of all five of his would-be rescuers, Stayword was not there, Watson bent down to scan the corridor leading up to the store closet, and found only the DNA from when he had led the inspector up to his temporary jail, nothing which might have indicated his method of escape,

"Wait here" Lestrade told the irregulars in a tone that meant "I mean it" Wiggins gripped Deirdre's hand in his own and put his other one on Tennyson's head, scruffing up the blonde hair that protruded from under his hearing aides, then stated with a reassuring smile

"Hey, you never know, maybe he got out of there somehow and found something, maybe he has a clue about where to find Mr. Holmes" he didn't sound very assured but as the oldest of the group he felt it was his duty to comfort his friends

Lestrade and Watson crept inside, where the former suddenly fell though the floor with a scream, landing awkwardly on her bottom on the icy floor of the level underneath the one Watson and co were situated on, the latter looking down concernedly at his partner through the hole

"OW! Where the zed did that come from?"

"I think we now know how inspector Stayword vacated this room"

"I'd have to agree, but how did he fit down that hole?"

"To be precise it appears to be a trap door of some sort"

"Thanks, I really needed to know that!"

"Your most welcome inspector"

"ARGH!"

Deirdre peeped her head around the door frame and stepping across asked

"Are you guys alright? I 'erd a scream" inspector Lestrade answered huffily "ya I'm Fine, I just fell through the floor"

"What did you say yo- at that precise moment a clomping could be heard very close to were Lestrade was sitting in a heap, "come weez me zees way!"

The other irregulars ran, or floated, into the room, Wiggins in the lead "is it just me or was that Fenwick?"

"beep beep whir"

"Ya, that was Fenwick alright, I think we should all take a little detour down here, Lestrade yelled up as she slowly got to her feet,

"From the sound of things I think our ugly friend might have found Stayword, or at least know that he's down here, I got to hand it to you Watson; you sure know the right moment for a practical joke"

Had Watson been able to see her properly looking down from the upper level he would have seen a look of pure determination and hope written across her features, very similar to that of every one else, including his own,

They had found Fenwick, and chances were that where Fenwick was Moriarty was also to be found, and where Moriarty was, well, .chances were they would have found Holmes and be on there way out of here by this time tomorrow, which by now wasn't very far away.

And with that happy thought Deirdre, Wiggins and Tennyson all slipped through the trap door to join inspector Lestrade, however once down they had to wait for Watson to blast it to a bigger size with his ever useful ionizer so he could fit through without dismantling himself,

Lestrade had been going to insist that 'the kids' stay behind, but she knew that this was different, this was personal,

So with all five together again, they started carefully down the brightly lit tunnel towards the sound of Fenwick's terrified shrieks.

**Chapter Sixteen: Fighting Freedom**

Stayword slipped around another corner and launched himself behind yet another power conduit, he had seen that guard deposit Holmes in the room closest to him, and he needed to find something to wedge the door open with. Chances were there was no way he could do it with his bare hands.

he could still hear that high pitched crashing noise, he had long ago come to realize that it must be the sound of a generator of some sort, no doubt the one that that woman inspector had made the starting point of, he forced out the thought, _there_ investigation,

Of course, that was only as far as searching the warehouses went, as far as he was concerned the rest of the credit belonged to him

Stayword felt around behind him until he found a lose piece of metal on the far side of the conduit facing the wall, it was at falling off point so it was not a difficult to pull off,

He peeked around the other side of his hiding place and as no one was there, he began to creep out,

At which point he promptly resumed hiding, as a group of guards came swarming around a corner lead by a very ugly little man with the kind of face that could give one nightmares,

The ugly creature was screeching at the top of his lungs in what could only be a French accent for the group to follow him, and this Stayword realized must be the reason that he had encountered no other guards but the one he had seen half-forcing half-carrying Holmes along.

They had all been rounded up to engage in a search for someone, probably him, he gulped

once they had passed he again slipped out from his hiding place and Made his way around one more corner where he found the room he knew must hold the prisoner, as it had a high security lock on the only door leading into it,

Although luckily for him the door itself was of weak material and could easily be pried open with the piece of metal he had in his hand, he did not really know what he was going to do once he got Holmes out,

All that was important to him right now was showing that woman that _he_, Stayword was the greater inspector, and making it clear that _he_ had closed the case, not her,

if the detective could walk then fine, if not, well then it was just as well for him to try to find a way to signal Lestrade, and if he couldn't do that he would just have to come back for Holmes later when he had had a chance to get reinforcements, after all, what could he do? Risk his own safety for that of some battered blind idiot?

He slipped the metal into the slit between door and wall and pushed with all his might, nothing happened, he tried again and again until finally the door gave way and he fell on his face inside a dimly lit room very similar to that of his own more temporary imprisonment.

Hauling himself to his feet, he heard noises, and a shaky yet dignified voice said.

"It's alright…tell me…what he looks…looks like"

Stayword looked up expecting to find Holmes (that voice could belong to no one but him) delirious and talking to himself, but instead to his astonishment he found him talking to a young girl, rather dirty, with long black hair and even darker eyes, that seemed to glow with suspicion as she looked at Stayword.

Stayword watched as she took up Holmes hand and began to run her finger across it he was silent for a moment, yet his eyes seemed to glow with comprehension and understanding.

"yes…yes…I see…"

Stayword stared at them with a puzzled expression; the man had gone insane! Didn't he understand that they had to get out of here quickly? He was about to interrupt the 'conversation' when the detective began to talk to him.

"She wants…to know who you are…as do I"

"I am inspector John Stayword of British intelligence, Mr. Holmes, and who is she?"

You could tell the girl was unimpressed with his harsh accent and pompous manner

"Her name is Rowland…and she is a…a prisoner here as well"

"Alright come on then."

Holmes shook his head, he seemed to be using the sounds to pinpoint his 'rescuer's' location "I am afraid that as…you have no doubt noticed…a…apart from being blind…I am also…also unable to walk,"

The girl took up his hand again.

"No, I am afraid that would not work…Fenwick is on the alert and I would only…slow you down"

Stayword was loosing his rather limited patents.

"Come _on_ lets _go_, we haven't much time"

"Go with the inspector Rowland, I will be alright"

More signing

"No…When you return to new London…ask for…ask for inspector Elizabeth Lestrade…she will know where…to find me….just tell her what you know, she will…will understand"

They could hear Fenwick and Co. returning

Stayword was at the end of his tolerance and grabbing the girl by her shoulder forced her along in front of him, she tried to get free but he was not only bigger then she was, his mass was also greater and so to Rowland's utter woe he was able to maintain his grip.

He dragged her down the hall until she began to scream, not words, she didn't seem able to speak, just sounds and indistinct moans.

Stayword stuffed his hand over her mouth at which point she began to try to bite him, and pulled her into a room, where he thought that high pitched sound would be loud enough to drown her out.

Walking backwards with her in front of him so she wouldn't try to trip him again he promptly bashed into something soft, and heard an "OOF" as if something had been knocked backward.

It was quickly followed by a familiar and as far as Stayword was concerned, loathed voice "I've got you inspector!"

**Chapter Seventeen: Help In A Small Package**

Inspector Lestrade was saved from hitting the floor as Watson caught her in his metallic arms, as she got back to her feat she looked up at her 'attacker' to find to her great relief and annoyance, only inspector Stayword,

Had it been a guard they would have been in big trouble, she didn't want to have an ionizer fight in the same room as a high voltage generator

"Stayword where the zed have you bee- who's that?"

"Some kid, I found her in with Mr. Holmes, and I might ask you the same question"

Lestrade wanted to cry out with joy

"you've found Holmes!? Where is he!?" you could see Stayword puff up like a balloon before he answered

"why should I tell you? I found him–"

She wanted to bash his head in "I can't believe this! How dare you! You tell me where he is or I'll-"

But what she would have done to him they would never find out, as the reactor gave a rather sinister lurch and cut her off mid sentence,

Lestrade didn't have the patience or civility to deal with Stayword right now, although she would be sure to repot him to Grayson later,

The only thought in her franticly working brain at that moment was that she had to find Holmes and she had to find him now, Lestrade looked down at the girl in Stayword's grasp as she struggled to compose herself

And noticed that the girl had stopped trying to break free of the sweaty grasp of the man holding her, and was looking up at Lestrade in wide eyed amazement and recondition

Lestrade looked over at Watson who with anxiety in his eyes nodded he seemed to have similar feelings to herself, with that encouragement she turned to Stayword

"Let her go"

"What, are you ma-"

"I said let her go" Watson who was now looking desperate with worry over Holmes grabbed Stayword's arm and began to twist, with a howl of pain the cubby man released his captive

"How dare you, you idiotic compu- Stayword who seemed to be getting cut off a lot lately was shoved to the side by Wiggins who had a look of pure hatred in his eyes,

To anyone who knew the oldest of the irregulars, that seemed an impossible emotion for him to emulate, but it was there all the same as he turned his gaze on the source of his dislike "call Watson 'idiotic' one more time and your gunna get it"

Lestrade bent down to look right into the eyes of the girl who was staring at her, now that Lestrade took a good look at her she realized that she could not be much older then Tennyson, probably the same age, Tennyson himself was staring at the girl, he seemed to see something in her gaze that Lestrade could not.

"Do you know where Holmes is?" Lestrade asked

In a frantic state the girl nodded her head and then put her hand out as if to grab the inspectors attention.

Lestrade had hoped for some Help, some pointing in the right direction, she tried again

"Where is Holmes?" the girl who now seemed to be at the end of her tolerance started clapping her hands to draw the inspectors attention to them, she then began pointing to her and mouthing something,

Inspector Lestrade was about to give up and was about to start looking without directions, she began to turn away at which point her wrist was grabbed in a tight hold, it suddenly hit Lestrade what the girl was trying to say.

"ARE YOU LESTRADE" she mouthed it again and again until with a look of comprehension Lestrade answered.

"Yes, I am" she would have been shocked at the girl knowing her identity, had she not remembered that Stayword had said he found her with Holmes.

The girl began to beckon, as if to say 'follow me', then she ran back down the hall, with Lestrade, Watson and the three irregulars following as fast as they could, while Stayword grumbled something about '_his_ investigation' while he tried to keep up with the group.

**Chapter Eighteen: The Cavalry Has Come**

Holmes sat propped up against the wall wallowing in boredom and worry, he knew that Rowland did not want to be separated from him and he felt guilty about forcing her to go even though he knew it was for her own good,

He also wouldn't have chosen a person that his friend described as "a glutton of a man sweaty and pompous" to be the one to guide her to safety.

He had heard her struggling to get away from Stayword the entire time; the sounds mixed in with Fenwick's heightened remonstrances.

Holmes's only consolation was that Rowland would be able to find inspector Lestrade. As he would probably be dead by then, he had only told Rowland to find her, as he knew that she would see to it that his friend was properly cared for, as would Watson.

As he sat there doubled over in pain, he wondered how such a man had managed to find his way down here, it was too much of a find to be by accident. Holmes also found the fact that he had brought no one with him very singular.

How strange it was that Holmes had known this girl for so short a time and yet, through their mutual stubbornness they had become friends, it accrued to him that 'friend' was not a word he ventured to use often, yet there was no other word that seemed a fitting description of his feelings toward Rowland.

Or hers toward him, perhaps his blindness had forced him to allow this invasion into his usually iron emotional control, this new challenge had made it impossible for him to survive on his own, Rowland had been his link to the outside world, she had been his eyes, and now without her company he felt more blind then ever.

He was In the middle of contemplating this, allowing the darkness to swallow him in his isolation, when he heard yet another barrage of hurrying footsteps.

"Ah, Fenwick is…making…another round- what in the world?"

his ejaculation had been drawn from the fact that at least one of the sets of steps was familiar to him, very familiar, he was now sure he was beginning to feel the effects of loosing so much blood, the steps sounded like…….No there could be no mistaking that heavy metallic thud, they were Watson's.

As he listened, he began to make out more patterns, more familiar foot steps,

"Lestrade…Wiggins, Deidre" he could even hear a buzz that sounded something like Tennyson's hover car, there were also two sets of steps that he couldn't quite place and yet he knew he had herd them recently, it was hard to single them out among the pounding of the others,

Had he been able to walk, or indeed see, he would have gotten up to take a look out of the mutilated door to what was now _his_ cell.

However as it was he seemed to have no choice but to except the fact that he was delirious, he sighed, it was so ironic that, even with the door bashed off it's hinges he was unable to affect an escape.

"At least Rowland…will be in safe hands" suddenly the door gave a huge groaning sound and the footsteps along with their unseen owners entered through the battered door way,

"Oh my god! Holmes, are you alright?"

"Inspector Lestrade?...is that you?"

"What do you mean is it me?" immediately after saying this she regretted it, she should have realized that Holmes couldn't see her, otherwise he would not have asked.

She also knew Holmes couldn't walk, as he would have come with Stayword, blind or not, he had his pride, a wave of pity and horror washed over her.

She turned her head to Watson who was pushing past the irregulars to get to his friend

"Watson, could you carry him?"

"Most certainly…yes, I will be careful"

Lestrade was confused

"I didn't ask you too be"

"No inspector, this young lady did,"

Comprehension dawned as Holmes realized that he had not _heard_ anyone caution Watson, and in his alarm began to cough up more blood.

"Rowland…what are you…you doing back here?"

He heard quick footsteps coming toward him and he felt the familiar lettering being pressed into his left palm.

"I BROUGHT LESTRADE" pause "I COUD NOT LEAVE U"

Holmes was about to say something else when he was interrupted by Lestrade.

"We better hurry," the screaming of the frantic Fenwick was getting closer and closer.

"Hurry up Watson, we don't have much time".

Holmes felt himself being lifted off the floor in his friends metal embrace, the movement however gentle and gradual made him dizzy, fortunately he had not eaten for 3 days otherwise he would have thrown up, this had to be real otherwise his delirium had gone to a new level.

No, they had found him, and however embarrassing being carried about by his best friend in front of his irregulars and inspector Lestrade was, he had to admit to himself that was glad to be going home.

**Chapter Nineteen: The Evil Excuse (authors note: this chapter will be from no one person's point of view as it is where all the charters come together)**

Fenwick saw the group as he ran down the hall followed by his heard of guards, The Yardie, the three brats, the fat inspector, the girl and the dead detective, who was being carried by the compudroid, and all he could think about was how to kill them before his master found out, "shoot zem!" he shrieked,

Lestrade was one step ahead of him however, and began to fire her ionizer, which was fully charged due to its non usage, at the offending group, walking backwards to give her party time to vacate the premises

"Get back to the trap door!" she yelled back, The guards began to fire, and Holmes heard Watson's voice above him

"Hurry inspector!"

"You take care of the kids and make sure Holmes is alright, I'll follow" Holmes felt helpless and completely useless, not to mention embarrassed by Lestrade's comment, he was completely unable to help his friends, a situation that he seemed to be coming across a lot lately.

He heard a buzz from an ionizer and a scream; he could not tell from whom, just as a huge burst of pain began to spread though his already broken ribs, he smelled burnt cloth and heard Lestrade curse, then nothing more

Watson watched as the blast from one of the guards ionizers hit his helpless friend in the chest, he seemed to glow for a minute before he went limp, the light went from his sightless eyes and his breathing became even more spasmodic,

He yelled at Lestrade, had be been able to he would have cried from the sheer injustice of it all, "Holmes has been hit!"

It was obvious by this time that they were going to have to stop to regroup and make sure Holmes was alright, if he was still alive, the guards, and Fenwick, who apparently had borrowed an ionizer from one of them, were now converging on the invaders full blast, firing at will,

the walls seemed to resound with the energy bouncing off them, the invaders of the fort ran (or floated) for all they were worth, Watson in the lead as he used his back to shelter Holmes from anymore stray ionizer blasts, he didn't think that his friend's damaged body could handle another injury of any kind,

Lestrade continued to fire as she walked slowly backward dodging the ongoing shots of Fenwick and his brigade, at last they came upon the only room that could possibly shelter so big a group as there eight people,

The generator room,

taking up stations behind the massive illegally constructed machine the seven of them waited for Lestrade, Watson gently set Holmes down next to him on the ground, Deidre removed her coat and put it under the bloody head of her mentor, they had to talk loudly over the pounding of the machine "is 'e going to be alright?"

"I should think so" said Watson scanning his friend and removing the makeshift bandage that Holmes still had around his head "as long as we can get him back to new London with out further injuries" he had refrained from telling her the full extent of damage, as it might worry his young friend more then it already had,

Deidre turned around as she felt a hand on her shoulder, Rowland mimed her question, mouthing it at the same time "IS HE GOING TO BE OK?" she seemed to be desperate for any information about her cellmate's condition

Seeing that Watson was fairly immersed in trying to help his unconscious friend, Deidre answered for him "Watson says he thinks Mr. 'Olmes will he fine, as long as we can get him back to new London" neither of them wanted to think about what would happen if they didn't

Lestrade ran into the room and leaped behind the generator, covering her head as she dodged ionizer fire, and anything else the guards threw at her,

She hit the ground next to Watson, a particularly hard looking chair just missing her by inches as it bounced of the wall behind her,

they were now safe, at least until Fenwick brought Moriarty, who would no doubt manage to think of a way to get them to come out, Fenwick wouldn't dare fire anything in here, if he hit the generator the whole zedding place would be incinerated,

And although that might be a brilliant idea in another situation it was not going to work here unless Fenwick wanted to blow himself and 'Master' to timbuc two,

Now that she had a spare moment Lestrade was able to turn her attention to what she considered the real concern on hand, Holmes's health.

"How is he Watson?" she asked as she stared down at the battered form of Sherlock Holmes lying unconscious on the vibrating floor beside her right knee,

where as when talking to Deidre the compudroid had tried to make the situation seem less grave then it really was, he now dropped his confident manner and let the full extent of there reality sink in

"Not well, I don't think he will last much longer if we cannot get him to a hospital soon"

"How long does he have"

"Hard to say, a few hours at most, the ionizer hit him right in the most vulnerable spot in his chest, he already had about three broken ribs there"

Lestrade wanted to strangle Stayword, and rightly so

She turned on him; he was sitting right beside Rowland who was glaring at him with a venomous look even Grayson would be proud of

"You selfish idiot! If you hadn't insisted on keeping Holmes's ware bouts to you self so you could nab all the credit, then we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place!"

"Excuse me, it's not my fault that Mr. Holmes was idiotic enough to get himself abducted, further-"

The irregulars and Lestrade (Watson was to busy looking after his friend) had been about to pounce on the repulsive Stayword when a scream, that seemed to echo throughout the room erupted from the small, supposedly traumatized girl sitting beside him,

Rowland was on Stayword before anyone could stop her, punching him in the face as he yelled with the pain

"OE AIRTY OU IK EFNDT!" she screamed over and over at the top of her voice

"HU ISA EYTING ERE HODTY RETH ANG YKGH AGH SUHJK INGS JIF ECXTYGN FOD TY HUANID BEIHD!!" she hit him again and again crying and screaming as loud as she could until, because they didn't want to carry Stayword as well, they had to pull her kicking and screaming off the now badly bruised inspector,

None of them had understood a word she had said, none of them had needed to, her meaning was clear enough, and said more plainly then words could ever attempt to:

"How dare you say that about my friend" "he is lying there half dead and all you can think about is your self! How dare you say such things you evil excuse for a human being!"

**Chapter Twenty: Another Blunder**

Moriarty rushed out into the hall he could hear someone screaming, although he couldn't for the life of him make out what they were saying,

He had just been into the security camera area that adjoined to his own quarters and had seen the battle waging in the vicinity of his generator,

He should have known better then to entrust such a task to Fenwick! They were all here, the yardie and her bunch of idiots! And they would all have to die here and now if his plan was still to succeed.

He found his personal slave and a group consisting of his entire security staff situated out side his generator room just as he had seen them through the camera lens, he could see Fenwick, waiting ionizer poised, ready to shoot the moment he had a chance

"FENWICK!"

The offending minion turned to face his master with pure fear in his mutated eyes

"Fenwick what is going on!"

"Master, zee yardie 'as come back and found zee fat man and taken zee prisoners!"

Fenwick coward, waiting to be knocked of his feet by his master, he didn't have to wait long, as the punch landed home he skidded across the floor, looking something like a stone skipping across water,

He howled with the pain, Moriarty paid no attention to the sound or his sniveling lackey, but approached the guards, who were beginning to look rather uncertain themselves,

"I presume from your obvious lack of confidence that they are hiding behind the generator?"

"The guard who had been in charge of shuffling Holmes back and forth from his cell stepped forward

"Ya, they've bin in there abou' ten minutes"

Moriarty stepped up to the burnt looking doorway; there was no way his enemies would try to shoot when it would pose the same risk to them as it would to him

"My Dear Lestrade, surely you realize the futility of your actions? There is no possible way you can make it out of here alive," he voiced in the direction of his enemy's concealment

Lestrade was not in the mood to play games, but she was willing to do anything right about now if it would buy them some time.

"That's what you think scum bag!" she yelled back at him over the pounding of the massive power conductor

"I propose a trade, you give me back the girl and I will allow you to walk out of here without further resistance, not to mention the fact that I will allow you to bring Holmes back to new London in one piece"

"Forget it clone head! Do you think were going to let you lull us into a false sense of security and then shoot us when our backs are turned!"

"I assure you that is not my intention, I am a man of my word"

"Ya, in an alternate universe maybe, besides you've already bashed up Holmes enough, I think we both know it's Rowland you really want, what makes her so valuable to you?"

"I must confess that I was indeed planning to kill Holmes, in fact his execution was scheduled for-"

Moriarty stopped talking and they could only assume that he was glancing at his watch "well, twenty minutes ago now, however, no harm will come to the girl if you hand her over to me now"

"No way!" the last thing she wanted to do was surrender something to Moriarty that he considered valuable

"So be it! We shall see who is victor, but unless I am very much mistaken, and as I saw it happen my self so I highly doubt that I am,

Your precious Mr. Holmes has a very short time to live unless you can get him to a hospital in the next few hours, judging from his present condition and the fact the he was knocked unconscious by an ionizer blast about fifteen minutes ago"

Lestrade was torn; she knew there was very little chance that Moriarty would just let them walk out of here alive, girl or no girl,

She also knew that Holmes would not want her to give up the life of a child in exchange for his own, she had no idea what Moriarty could want from this kid who she had heard Holmes called Rowland, but she had no intention of giving her up

"I'LL SEE YOU BEHIND BARS MORIARTY!"

"Very well, do let me know when you have changed your mind"

The group heard what sounded like fifteen or so ionizers revving up, it was now just a question of how much time they had to formulate a plan, or rather how long they had before Holmes couldn't hold out any more

Lestrade glanced over at the dirty scruffy looking kid who was sitting in the farthest possible spot away from them that could offer cover, she was covered in blood, and as she herself was not bleeding Lestrade guessed that some of it belonged to Holmes and some to Stayword,

She was wearing a ripped pair of blue jeans and a shirt that might once have been white but was missing a sleeve which had been ripped off at the shoulder, Lestrade realized that it must have been scarified to make the bandage she had seen around Holmes's head earlier,

Rowland looked completely absorbed in her own thoughts, just looking at this wreck of a child with her dirty, supposedly black hair covering her face in a way that served only to make her look more helpless,

the only clue as to the fiery soul that lurked underneath the surface of her pitiable exterior was the look in those black eyes of hers, a look of hatred such as Lestrade had never seen before,

The girl was starring at the moaning Stayword as if she would like to kill him then and there, her eyes seemed to shine with the emotion,

However what Lestrade didn't understand was that it was the emotion of eleven years of abuse and loneliness, anger at the world, and the loss of her greatest friend, who in her mind she was about to lose all over again, all erupting at once, and taking tangible shape in the rather hefty form of Inspector John Stayword,

Finally in all her time living on the streets and all that time being neglected by her own parents, someone had finally gone to far, and she was not going to let anyone hurt her friends, or her, ever again, she was no longer scared.

**Chapter Twenty One: Guns Aren't Toys**

It was a stale mate, neither group had the advantage over the other, Lestrade was running out of options and she was running out of time, they had already used up an hour and Holmes was not getting any better,

The three irregulars had bunched up in the corner around the newest addition to the group, in there company Rowland seemed to calm down a little, as she signed to Tennyson, asking him questions about his computer and so on,

Wiggins was sitting right beside her and every now and then she would turn and look up at him as though she wanted to ask him something but wouldn't, after a while he gave her an encouraging nudge and she signed the question to him

At which point the first laughter they had heard in two hours erupted from the tiny knot of children, apparently Rowland had wanted to know if his hair grew or not, even the hardened yardie couldn't help but smile,

Nevertheless through it all she could always see Rowland's eyes, which that pained look never seemed to entirely leave, dart back to her dying friend who was lying in the corner on the cold floor, as if she were afraid that he would give up if she looked away for to long,

Occasionally she would also glance over at Stayword, and in those few seconds that her eyes would linger on him, that look of pure hate would return,

Lestrade could almost feel the time passing, every second seemed to slip away through her fingers, she turned around again to check on the kids,

they had all taken rather a liking to there silent acquaintance, Rowland seemed to know who they all were before they told her, obviously she and Holmes had done more then talk about Moriarty while locked up together,

When she looked up, she was surprised to see only Wiggins, Deidre and Tennyson together, Rowland was gone, Lestrade nearly had a heart attack when she turned around and found herself face to face with her, Rowland grabbed her sleeve and made a sign like a side ways 'L'

"Sorry, my gun isn't a toy"

Rowland shook her head, and made the sign again, this time pointing it toward the siege on the other side of there rather volatile fort, and then pointed to her self, it took a minute but Lestrade figured out what Rowland was trying to suggest,

"you want to pretend to give yourself up? As a distraction?"

She nodded her head

"I don't think so, you could get killed, and I would shoot myself before I'd trust Moriarty"

The girl started to mouth very slowly, and after a few tries Lestrade managed to decipher yet another sentence

"Your right, we don't have much time, or any other plan, but Holmes wouldn't want you to do it" usually Lestrade wouldn't even consider using a kid's idea, yet this was not a 'usual' circumstance to be in even for her,

Rowland just stared, a plan began to formulate in Lestrade's mind, she smiled, "

"Maybe we _could_ do it, but how about with a twist?"

**Chapter Twenty Two: A Plan In Action**

Moriarty was getting impatient, tapping his foot he continued to glare at Fenwick who now had a black eye, he was about to open his mouth to direct an unnecessarily rude comment at his slave when a familiar voice was heard.

"Okay Moriarty, you win here's the girl"

"I knew you would see the situation in the proper light sooner or later inspector"

Rowland was pushed out into the light of the hall as she left the cover of the generator, she had her hand behind her back as she walked up to Moriarty, looking right at that ugly goateed face of his with a confidence and hate which the master criminal could not help but find unnerving.

With a cautious and hungry look in his eyes he grabbed her by the arm intending to remove whatever it was she held in her hand, just as an ionizer was pressed to the small of his back,

He watched as she used her free hand to sign something to him very _very_ slowly, there could be no mistaking her meaning.

"DONT MOVE"

Lestrade poked her head out and when she saw that everything had gone as planned, began to shout commands

"Okay, every body out unless you want our little friend to blow your boss to smithereens" she threatened the guards, Moriarty opened his mouth to attempt to gain control of the situation

"My dear Lestrade-"

"MOVE NOW!"

"I really don't think that you can blow up a building when you have your only ionizer aimed at me by an over confident child"

"Ah but we don't, you want to stand up for a minute Wiggins?" slowly and carefully Wiggins got to his feet, in his hand he held Watson's ionizer, which was aimed directly at the open top panel of the generator, the most sensitive part of the whole machine,

Lestrade was really enjoying the look on Moriarty's face but she could not afford to doddle, Watson's ionizer only had one shot left, possibly two, and her own was starting to feel drained,

Plus they had Holmes to think about, in fact that was the precise reason that _Wiggins_ was 'threatening' the generator,

Watson was the only person who could carry the detective for a long period of time, (even though he was far from heavy as _some _people go) and they needed there friend to stick to that task, they had to move as fast as they could,

"Get in line, and no funny business, Fenwick in the front, and Moriarty, you can stay in the back with your charming young friend"

The guards, at there employer's nod, all got in line, Fenwick in front and Moriarty in the back, Rowland still had Lestrade's ionizer aimed directly at his back, they had given it to her because the yardie could at least defend herself with marshal arts,

Where as if the kid was going to keep Moriarty under control she needed firepower,

Rowland herself didn't seem to be at all interested in her surroundings, her eyes never left those of her hostage,

the same thing kept going through her mind 'this was the man who had stood by while his cronies had beat up her friend, just stood there and watched as though it were some kind of entertainment, and this was the man that had starved them both for two days, and this was the man that had kidnapped her in the first place'

She jammed the ionizer deeper into his back, she would never sink to his level, but she saw no harm in letting him _think_ she would.

One by one 'team Lestrade' came out from hiding, Watson was the last to follow, he had picked up Holmes again as gently as he could and was being very careful not to jostle his friend about,

Wiggins would stay behind until Deidre came back to give him the signal, they could not risk losing there advantage over Moriarty until they absolutely had to,

Lestrade had wanted to leave Stayword behind on generator duty, however not only was he now so bruised that he could hardly see, but no one felt that he could be trusted to wait for the command from his partner,

He was just too selfish, Deidre had suggested that they leave him behind, but of course as good an idea as it was, he was still a fellow inspector, and besides Lestrade wanted to see the look on his face when he was court marshaled on about fifteen different charges,

"I hope you realize that there is no way you could possibly hold me for any amount of time"

Moriarty's words brought Lestrade back down to earth

"Ya, you think what you want, but your going to be in prison for a long time, Holmes and I'll see to that"

"You also may think what pleases you my dear Lestrade, howe- oof"

The 'oof' was the result of Rowland jamming Lestrade's ionizer even further into her charge's back, that child was turning out to be more trouble then the master criminal had ever thought possible.

They had reached the demolished trapdoor and feeling around in the corners Lestrade found a ladder, Watson went up first with Holmes, an then Rowland followed, at which point Moriarty was shoved up next by Lestrade, to be promptly delivered back to the custody of his former prisoner,

Lestrade came up last after the two youngest irregulars

"how's that backup coming Watson?" she asked him, they had tried to get through to New Scotland Yard before but for some reason the signal had kept getting blocked,

"Nothing yet, in all likely hood it is the product of the electric output created by the generator, that would explain why none of the guards or Fenwick had wrist communicators, they are quite useless under such conditions,"

I think we need to be outside in order for the signal to reach it's assigned destination, the interference seems to extend over the entire structure" the compudroid rattled this bit of information off casually, while tightening his grip on his assigned 'load'

"Alright MOVE" Lestrade ordered the heard of evildoers out of the building in single file, Moriarty still at the back and being pushed along by his vengeful little sentinel

Once they were out side the premises of the building, Watson was able to get his signal through,

"They will be here in about 2 hours, and are informing the local police of our situation, _they_ should be here in about 25 minutes"

"that's more like it!" okay deride you can go get Wiggins in about 20 minutes- where is Fenwick?"

Somehow, through all the movement and kafuffle Fenwick had managed to slip away, without notice Watson scanned the aria with his free arm,

"I am getting a new life reading back in the warehouse, but it is hard to separate because of the interference"

"I'll go back down to get him, is there ANY way to let Wiggins know that Fenwick is on the rampage?"

"No, do hurry inspector, he does not have a weapon but he could still hurt the boy" he of course meant Fenwick could hurt Wiggins, not the other preferred way it could be read

"Don't worry, and wipe that smirk off your face clone head, no not you Watson, this dead beat" she said indicating Moriarty with a wave of her hand"

The shocked and hurt look which had appeared on Watson's face for a moment was quickly replaced by a worried smile, "do be careful"

And with that Lestrade made her way back down to the place of evil from whence she had just come

**Chapter Twenty Three: Down Once More (Okay I know the POTO references are getting a bit old but I can't help myself)**

Lestrade made her way cautiously back down into the underground hallway, being very careful not to catch her uniform on the jagged and scorched metal that now surrounded the enlarged opening,

She could still hear the hammer of the generator pounding away like mad, then another more foreboding sound caught her ear, an electric sounding buzz, she was too late, she ran down the many passages her steps echoing off the metal walls

as she got closer and closer to her destination she could hear the faint sound of Fenwick's harsh raspy breathing and the quick athletic sounding breaths of Wiggins, barley audible over the constant pulsing and bashing of equipment,

She could tell they were battling over what must be Watson's ionizer; she turned one last corner and came face to face with the jaundiced visage of the evil Fenwick,

upon seeing her he let go of the ionizer, which Wiggins also lost hold of at the sudden loss of force against his grip, in an attempt to catch it in mid air he accidentally squeezed the trigger.

"NO!" they all shouted at once

All three watched in horror as the stray beam of energy collided with the side of the machine, which began to whir in a very menacing fashion, pounding louder and louder faster and faster,

Smoke began to billow through the air and Lestrade had to cover her face with her hand, grabbing Wiggins before she lost sight of him in the mounting smog she ran towards the door feeling around for the short thin form of Martin Fenwick,

she hit gold and dragging the half suffocated minion back down the hall she managed to get him and the oldest irregular up the ladder in front of her, clambering up after them she leaped onto the floor hitting her shins on the hard ground just as an explosion racked the whole building,

Grabbing Wiggins she shoved him face first to the ground, she didn't have time to grab Fenwick as another explosion rocked the already rusting ground as the ceiling gave way burying the tiny group,

After about ten minutes of being buried with hands over faces, Lestrade reached her hand up and shoved the piece of metal that had been covering her back, off to the side,

getting to her feet and wiping the blood away from a fresh cut on her forehead she pulled her charge up after her, they were both coughing and wheezing but at least they were alive,

After they had had a moment to catch there breaths Lestrade decided to voice her rather unenthusiastic sounding concern

"Let's see if we can find Fenwick"

"Ya, I sp'ose we should, even if we do hate his guts"

Lestrade smiled, yes even if they did hate his guts they should still try to find him, oh well. Duty before the pleasure of seeing him convicted and thrown in a cell for the next twenty years

She felt a tap on the shoulder and looked back at the dusty Wiggins, he had a troubled look on his face,

"Look, I'm sorry about the ionizer, I didn't mean to squeeze the trigger I just kind of-"

"It's okay, it was an accident and it was Fenwick's fault, and if anyone gets blamed it should be Fenwick or Moriarty, but not you, so don't feel guilty okay?"

Wiggins nodded somewhat relived of his guilt.

She turned around when she heard a rasping sound to see a rather blue looking hand reaching through the debris, Lestrade made her way through the knee deep rubble and hulled him out, Wiggins got his other side and together they pulled the dirty bloody Fenwick out into the half light of dawn,

The physical evidence was now destroyed but they still had Moriarty, Fenwick and there bunch of thugs, they could at least make an argument out of that, they also had Holmes' condition to back them up; people just don't go around punching themselves

And all those guards wouldn't be there by coincidence, and as an added bonus if they could get Rowland to relate her 'experience' they would have the case in the bag. Somehow, Lestrade didn't think it would be very hard to coax it out of her.

**Chapter Twenty Four: Oh Well**

Watson went over to the cruiser and opening it with his key laid Holmes across the back seat, with his arms now free, he aimed his stunner at the group of criminals; he would have to pay rapt attention if he was to keep what had turned out to be seventeen convicts under control.

Watson also took out his handcuffs and securing a grumbling Moriarty to a convenient metal pipe sticking out of the ground, so that he had to sit down or bend over, he relived Rowland of her charge.

Deirdre was standing beside Tennyson who was hovering about two inches off the ground looking worried, the older of the two put her rainbow nailed hand around his shoulder and hugged him close.

"Don't worry, Wiggins'll be alright"

Rowland put her hand on Tennyson's and squeezed it encouragingly, she glanced over at Stayword, she hated that man like she had never hated anyone else.

Deirdre had her coat back, Watson had not needed it when they had begun to 'pack up' it had a few bloodstains but they were on the outside of the coat and it was pretty cold outside so she didn't care.

Rowland stood there with her bare shoulder trying to warm herself up as best she could,

"You want my coat?"

Rowland shook her head

"'ay, why don't you go sit in the cruiser, its way warmer in there"

Rowland shook her head, she didn't want to cop out, and leave her new 'friends' to do all the work.

"It's all right; I'll call you when Inspector Lestrade and Wiggins get back"

Rowland mimed another question; Tennyson was the fastest at understanding her so he beeped out the message to Deirdre who answered the original asker, Rowland still didn't understand Tennyson's form of communication, even back in the warehouse the irregulars had had to translate.

"Ya, I don't know why Fenwick looks like that, just crazy I guess"

Rowland shrugged, the first time she had seen that man, about two hours ago, she had wanted to scream, he was just plain creepy, and she couldn't understand him half the time because of his thick French accent.

She nodded again and made her way over to the car, she got in the front passenger seat and shutting the door turned around to check on her friend, Holmes was looking more battered then ever,.

His breathing was spasmodic and rasping, and he had extensive bruising, she sure hoped Lestrade got back soon; they needed to get him to a hospital as soon as possible.

Suddenly there was a huge BOOM from the direction of the warehouse, she jumped out and joined the two irregulars in rushing over to the scene of the tragedy, Moriarty was still chained up, and the guards were far enough away that no one got hurt.

But where were Lestrade and Wiggins? Rowland felt her heart plummet into her stomach, but it came up again just as fast

"HEY! WATSON COULD YOU _PLEASE_ GET OVER HERE!"

It was Lestrade, with Wiggins walking confidently beside her holding the other arm of a slightly scorched looking Fenwick.

Wiggins's coat was singed, as was Lestrade's uniform but neither seemed to have sustained any kind of serious injury.

However there was nothing left of the warehouse, nothing but a scorched patch of ground where it had once stood,

It was then that the sirens were heard, tons of them, the backup had arrived and was landing on the burnt ground, as they touched down the personnel started to swarm towards them.

Along with a hefty number of medics, and officers, which promptly began to set up tents with big red crosses on their fronts, Watson who had informed them of Holmes' condition was leading a particularly tired looking medic in the direction of the cruiser.

Suddenly another BOOM racked the scene, but this one was closer, in fact it was directly in front of the presumably empty fuel pipe that Moriarty had been chained to, the smoke began to rise, reviling a pair of empty handcuffs.

Without even a smudge of blood, just as one of the cruisers that had come with the barrage of medical staff took off.

Fenwick who was being held by Lestrade and Wiggins, chose this moment to bite the arm of the former and run for it, grabbing the ladder that was let down by the stolen cruiser, as evil laughter filled the air…

**Chapter Twenty Five: Epilogue**

Rowland stared glumly at her shoes, she felt terrible, hungry tired and scared all rolled into one, inspector Lestrade and Watson had been gone about and hour now, they had left with a very sullen looking Doctor that seemed to know them farley well because he had said their names before the two had seen him,

"Inspector Lestrade" he had said nodding at them both "Dr. Watson"

"Well, how is he Sir Evan?" Lestrade's eyes had been full of worry and 'Sir Evan' had looked back at her with an expression that said very plainly 'not here.'

Just those two unspoken words had been enough to reduce Rowland to tears, which she had quickly hidden with her hand before they could streak her dirty face; she of all people knew that talking was nothing to do with sound. The irregulars were sitting off in another corner of the waiting room.

They all had troubled expressions on there faces that matched hers perfectly although it was hard to tell with Tennyson because of that bandana that completely covered his mouth and nose,

Perhaps Mr. Holmes never realized how much he means to so many,

The swinging doors opened again, Lestrade strode into the room, she went strait to the irregulars and launched into whispered conversation, Rowland didn't understand, was this it? Was Lestrade telling them the bad news?

She gripped her seat, looking over at the group again, she saw that they were all nodding; they seemed to be agreeing on something,

but before Rowland could wonder further, or attempt to ask what was going on, Lestrade crossed the room with her characteristic long strides and upon reaching Rowland bent down on both knees so as to be at eye level the girl.

"Rowland, would you like to come with me for a minute?" her tone was kind but sounded very tired, inspector Stayword had been hospitalized too, so his bruises could be seen to, maybe they were arresting Rowland for assaulting him? She didn't care, the idiot had deserved it and she wasn't the least bit sorry.

She got to her feet and straitening her torn and bloody shirt as best she could, followed the inspector through the door from which she had just emerged, there were nurses every where.

All in uniforms, doctors were swarming the halls as well but in much smaller numbers, the pair rounded corner after corner until they came right up to what Rowland assumed could only be inspector Stayword's room.

Lestrade opened the door very quietly 'what was she thinking? Why should she be quiet for Stayword? She hated him!' and nudged Rowland ahead of her through the door,

There, lying propped up in bed on a bunch of pillows looking almost as good as new, was Sherlock Holmes.

Rowland felt so happy she thought she could do anything, even talk! Forgetting all 'British' reserve she ran up and flinging her arms around him gave him a huge hug

"Oof, do be careful there Rowland."

She let go in complete shock,

Holmes had said her name without anyone having told him who it was that was smothering him in this unladylike manner, stepping back she took stock of his whole appearance:

All the bruises on his face were gone, his wrist didn't have any bandages, his hair was clean and she could not see any cuts or gashes on his head or face, no blood anywhere, he was under a blanket so she could not tell if his leg was healed as well,

She had never quite comprehended the wonders of modern medicine until now.

But the thing that she noticed above it all, the thing which had startled her, was that Homes was looking at her, strait at her, with that mischievous twinkle in his bright intelligent eyes.

He had a smile on his face too, not an all-out grin, but a secretly humorous expression that said all too plainly that he knew exactly what she was thinking, and he answered accordingly.

"Yes, apparently it was quite easily fixed" he was talking without difficulty and his breathing bespoke of his mended ribs

Turning around she saw that Watson had joined the inspector at the doorway; Rowland had to resist the reflex to pick up Holmes' hand, and instead sighed to him visually.

"GOOD TO SEE U"

"It is good to finally see you as well, you do not look at all as I thought you would" he smiled again.

Rowland grinned shyly, at the sound of more footsteps Holmes looked up from studying his young friend's face and beckoned to his irregulars who had just come in the door, Rowland looked up too.

Talking only to them, Holmes posed the question that would change Rowland's life forever

"Are we all agreed?" the group nodded, even Watson smiled at the 'in joke'

However all Rowland could do was look confused, were they arresting her?

Holmes turned back to his confused companion.

"Rowland would you like to be one of my irregulars?"

She stood there in shocked bliss but then began to sign frantically as the possible turn of events began to take shape in her mind, with one of his rare laughs Holmes replied;

"Yes, even though you did have a 'confrontation' with inspector Stayword, though I could hardly blame you, and of course we are not about to send you back to your parents, I would sooner trust Moriarty."

She started up again her hands diving in and out like some systematic dancing tutorial.

"Yes he will have a great deal of explaining to do, and no doubt he has embarrassed British intelligence enough to warrant a court marshal, from what Inspector Lestrade tells me.

"And what your parents don't know can't hurt them, we can leave it at that until such a time as it becomes necessary to dredge up the past, there will come a time when the truth should come out."

More signing, but this time Inspector Lestrade and Watson took the liberty of answering

"it should be easy enough to find you a place to live at a low rent, all we have to do is find you a job, you could work at a school for kids with speech difficulty or something, you'd be great at that." said the inspector.

"Yes indeed! And until then you can have the spare room at Baker Street, what do you say?" Watson chipped in enthusiastically.

Rowland looked back at Holmes, who nodded, and then back at the irregulars who erupted into enthusiastic exclamations and beeping.

"Ya, cool"

"Sounds good to me, wha' do you say?"

"Beep beep beep clock whir!"

And with that encouragement Rowland turned again to her friend and nodded, she would give it a try.

A few minutes later when all four of Holmes's irregulars had been led away by Watson to bring them back to Baker Street for dinner, rest and a change of clothes for Rowland (Deirdre had volunteered some of hers for the use of their newest recruit).

After all, they had been up for two days strait not to mention all that waiting at the hospital ever since they had been dropped of by Lestrade and the medics directly after Moriarty's disappearance, so none of them had eaten for at least seven hours and in Rowland's case even more time had elapsed between meals.

Inspector Lestrade sat looking at her colleague, she had never really realized until this moment how frantic she had been to find him, how desperate she had been to get him back, to know that he was safe.

She smiled to herself, was Sherlock Holmes really ever safe?

"So what are we going to do about Moriarty?" she asked

"What is there to do really Lestrade? Nothing but continue to try and thwart him."

"Ya I guess so, it was really sweet of you to take her in like that," she hinted with a sly tone in her voice.

"It is no more then she did for me, besides it is just until she learns to live on her own, she would hate to be dependant upon anyone for too long I think."

"Did she ever tell you why she doesn't speak? I mean you never told me if she did, and what was all that about her parents?"

"I gave her my word, but I think that if you go to new Scotland yard and look up the computer file on 'Rowlands' you will have some idea of how the matter stands."

"And how are you Holmes? Ego still intact?" she jested

"Yes, thank you, I believe I shall make a full recovery," that playful twinkle had returned to his eyes.

"Nice to be able to see again?"

"I must admit that it is something which I shall find very hard to take for granted in future."

"Thanks Holmes."

"What for?" he inquired, genuinely curious.

"For holding out so long."

"I had a great deal of help" he replied modestly.

"Still, thanks."

And with one last relieved smile in his direction, Lestrade turned and went back down the hall, Holmes' eyes had said what his words could not:

'Thank you.'


	2. Hail The Conquering Hero Comes

_AN: You may have noticed in my writing, that I do not like to be violent. I only use it as a plot device when I want to make Moriarty more evil or things more difficult for the character the pain is being inflicted upon in order to heighten the odds against he or she for the sake of drama._

_Well, one day my good friend Knife was telling me how she was really bummed I hadn't let the reader see what Moriarty did to our dear detective during his time alone with the criminal mastermind._

_I wrote this for her, against my better judgment and have neglected on purpose to post it until no. However, it is part of the story and I did feel that it was only fair to let the reader take a peek._

_I warn you though, it is violent, it is cruel, and it is vivid, even though we can't actually see what's happening as it's from Holmes' perception._

_I based it off a difficulty I have with sound, although of course, my own dilemma is not nearly as potent._

_Now, on with the story…_

_**Chapter XX: Hail the Conquering Hero comes, Sound the Trumpets, Beat the Drums.**_

**Missing scene from 'The Story Of The Fourth Irregular' written at the request of Knife.**

_Dedicated to Knife._

Holmes twisted his wrists in their bonds as inconspicuously as possible, attempting to ascertain by feel if there was any chance of affecting an escape, not that he would leave without Rowland, the only way he could see doing that was if death caught up with him before he could get back to her.

He could hear Moriarty pacing around the chair, like a shark about to close in upon it's prey, the guard was still close by, his breath smelled sour and reminded the detective of boiled eggs.

"You needn't worry, Holmes," the criminal's voice sliced through the darkness. "I made very sure to provide you with only the best restraints." He sneered, laughing darkly under his breath.

Turning his head in the direction of the sound Holmes responded with the smile of a man who knows he is about to wipe the grin off his opponents face "I look forward to returning the favor."

The detective didn't need to see his enemy's reaction, he could feel it in the air, sizzling like a heated cattle iron. Obviously Moriarty had expected his prisoner to be disheveled, his wit buried under self doubt, and starvation. However, Holmes knew how much the unseen criminal before him hated to be wrong.

In an instant two invisible hands shot through the darkness and wrapped themselves each around one of Holmes' restrained wrists. Holmes could feel Moriarty's face leering only an inch from his.

"Do you know what is about to happen to you?" he whispered, menacingly.

"I have no doubt that it will be considerably more unpleasant should you chose to remain." Holmes replied, knowing full well just how far under Moriarty's skin he was drilling.

The criminal's grip tightened.

"You are going to suffer, Holmes, and it is going to start now." The detective heard an electrical buzz begin to flow through the air; the sound reverberated painfully in his skull, attacking him, sapping his strength as he fought to control his emotions.

"Come, come Holmes," Moriarty continued, taking his hands from his foe's wrists and beginning once again to pace about the room, his footsteps echoing off the floor and walls. "Let's be honest with one another, during that little episode with dear old Hudson, did you really only observe his reaction to auditory stimuli? Or does it run deeper then that hmmmmm?"

Holmes said nothing, but he could feel the sweat gathering underneath the cuffs.

"Do speak up my dear fellow; tell me, how long did you spend preparing yourself before blowing that dog whistle?"

Holmes was beginning to panic; he would die before he would let it show of course, he had been an idiot to think that Moriarty would not know the details of the case, even having not participated in it himself.

"I must commend you, Holmes, it must have taken every ounce of determination you had to keep from reacting to it the same way Hudson did, I can only _imagine_ how _painful_ it must have been."

"If I had some idea of what you are referring to, then perhaps I could attempt an answer." He knew what little detail was running through the criminal's brain, and it scared him.

Moriarty smirked in the darkness "don't you remember, before this all started, you went into that mall with Lestrade to purchase that window pane?"

Holmes ground his teeth, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"And do you remember how much trouble you had?"

The buzzing grew louder, Holmes stifled a groan.

"The dear inspector thought it had something to do with the lighting, although to give her credit she wasn't far off, after all, you are sensitive to that as well."

Holmes knew, as Moriarty did also, that disabilities, like blindness for example, only served to increase the sensitivity of the other senses.

"However, what she did not know, as I do, is that you have hearing comparable to that of a dog, it is one of your greatest strengths, my friend, but I think that you shall also find it to be your greatest weakness. Although of course, you wouldn't have known just how good it was in your own time, no machines to emit unbearable ringing sounds that no one else can detect, isn't that right?"

Holmes couldn't talk, the buzzing had grown even louder and was beginning to pulsate.

"You and I both know that shopping centers are full of such things, tell me, on a scale of one to ten how much pain do you think you had to withstand to conceal your weakness from the good inspector?

"It really is a shame I cannot hear such things myself, for I should be able to make that judgment on my own. But as it is, I suppose I will just have to _blindly _feel my way about by your reaction."

Through the mounting pain and discomfort, Holmes glared.

"Oh I _do _apologize, that _was_ insensitive of me wasn't it?"

"Moriarty…you evil…" he choked; his throat was parched, and burned unbearably with every forced word.

"Really Holmes, if you are going to insult me at least wait until you are capable of it, now shall we begin?"

The buzzing sound suddenly grew even greater in its intensity, emitting a screeching, shrieking, ringing sound, which seemed to vibrate inside Holmes' very spine.

He needed to do something, anything to drown out the noise; he opened his mouth, and found that he could no longer speak; his throat muscles were constricting. He crouched into a ball as far as his restraints would permit, it was then he felt the cuffs click open and two muscular arms take hold of him.

There was nothing he could do; he was barely able to register it, as he was pulled to his feet and slammed against something cold, hard and flat. The pain was monstrous, magnified repeatedly by the excruciating pulsations pounding their way through the room.

Suddenly he found his voice.

"AHHHHHHHHHH-" his throat caught again, he coughed, unable to breathe.

Moriarty was saying something to him, he couldn't hear it…he couldn't move his hands, his brain was short circuiting, his arms where wrenched upward, sending more pain down his spine, he couldn't breathe, thought vanished, the void was closing in on him.

Then the ringing began to get closer, he could feel the heat and crackle of live electricity getting nearer and nearer, Moriarty's voice broke through for a second then was once again swallowed. Holmes had only been able to make out two words.

'_In hell'_

The heat was now less then an inch from his chest; it touched.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Electricity surged through him; he must have gotten free for a moment because he could feel himself being rammed back against the wall once again.

"Did you hear me Holmes?" Demanded the hated voice, and the detective felt a hand close tightly around his throat. "Stop for a moment," he ordered the guards "I want him to hear this, Holmes, HOLMES you're not getting this over with that quickly."

The sound quieted, it was still sending waves through the room, but it was at least bearable. Holmes coughed again, as Moriarty loosened his grip, his lungs finally allowing him air, he could feel the sweat dripping down his face.

"As I was saying before you began to scream so loudly, I had quite forgotten to inform you of your ultimate fate, and that of your little friend, and of course I could never live with myself knowing that you had gone to your grave without having been informed of my immensely clever reasons for your capture."

Moriarty's hand now flew back to its unseen owner and the grip of the guards loosened, Holmes felt himself fall to the floor, unable to support himself he collapsed onto his side and curled into a ball. Immediately, relief washed over him, he sighed, grateful for a moment's intervention.

Moriarty waited until Holmes had again become capable of conscious thought and then continued, "Now, as I was saying, you, of course are scheduled to be executed as soon as it becomes convenient to dispose of your body. No telling when that will be so we might as well enjoy the time in between, but the girl…now she is quite a different matter."

Holmes could feel the bile smoldering towards his mouth; he braced himself as he coughed it out onto the metal floor.

Moriarty laughed; a great cackle deep down in his throat that forced Holmes to clasp his hands over his ears, in his condition and under the constant strain of the now eased ringing; he was agonizingly sensitive to even the smallest tap.

"Do you even know who she is?" he stopped again, studying the desperate figure before him. "Yes, I dare say that you do, in fact, I am now certain of it, I should have known she was playing at more then just games. Well, it is a shame she told you, as I was going to entertain you with amusing anecdotes as to her rather colorful origins but, now that is no longer necessary we shall be able to return to our previous…_entertainment_ all the sooner."

Holmes had now lost all ability to move, his arms lay limp beside him and he had no way of clotting out the sound. With the last of his strength, he opened his mouth.

"You…bastard…she's…child." He could say no more.

"Yes, yes, I know she's only a child but that is why this is so _exciting,_ I so seldom have a chance to meet the charming youth of this century in my current occupation, now, let us not delay any further, I have a schedule to keep and you have a price to pay for your continual annoyance. I shall tell you strait out, I am going to use her to blackmail her mother and father."

Holmes choked again, more bile meeting the floor, he tried to move and blood followed the vomit.

"Really Holmes, you must try to hold it in, you really cannot help but admit to the brilliance of my plan, so simple, yet so effective…sometimes I am hardly able to comprehend my own genius."

Holmes could do nothing but lie there, listening to the invisible villain explaining, gloatingly, the horrendous fate that was to befall the little girl back in the cold cell in which she had been left. He had been right, and now there was nothing he could do; a whimper escaped him.

Moriarty paused suddenly as if a realization had just stuck him, Holmes heard a soft thud as both the master criminal's knees met the floor slowly; he placed his mouth parallel to his victim's ear and whispered as quietly as possible:

"You know, it suddenly occurs to me due to your somewhat dramatic facial expression – which you seem to be having great difficulty concealing – and that pathetic sound which you have just allowed to escape your lips; that you had already surmised as much."

He stopped for a moment, and Holmes could feel him draw a great, encompassing breath.

Mentally slowed by his ordeal he realized what Moriarty was about to do only the instant before it happened.

"HADN'T YOU!" the criminal yelled with all vocal the power he could summon.

Holmes was beyond screaming, beyond conscious thought, that last burst of sound, barely a centimeter from his ear was simply too great a trial.

It was only minutes later, when he was once again coherent, that he found himself being lifted back onto his feet.

One thought was sawing through his brain.

"Sarah…"

He had to escape, he had to tell her…he had to…to…his brain felt like lead. He had to do _something_, it was then he found that he could move again, he began to fight.

Screaming and kicking despite his raw throat, Holmes managed to dig his nails into the arm of one of his attackers, with a shocked outcry the man recoiled. The ringing was once again immediately turned to its maximum volume, pulsating and vibrating if possible, worse then before.

Then Holmes felt the ground disappear from under him.

Nails were digging into his flesh, his clothing burned or torn away in places, their protection now nonexistent. Everything began to dissipate; his stomach ached, the darkness swirled dizzily around him.

He was in the air.

All at once, hardness struck home, and he felt his neck crick under the force of the sudden impact.

Then all was blissfully quiet.

All was gone.


End file.
